


Someone who cares

by Melisenda



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:57:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 63,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3428654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melisenda/pseuds/Melisenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Barrow is sure he will stay at Downton until the end of his days. But life is full of surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

That year winter seemed to have no end, but Thomas knew what would happen: in those thirteen years he had seen other times the thin layer of snow whiten meadows, roadsides , the highest peaks of the trees , and then melt suddenly, just in a couple of days.

What hasn’t happened in weeks then mutate overnight, a dense and pouring rain deleted even the memory of the snow and spring, with clear skies and subtle breezes, arrived. One must know how to wait. But Thomas felt tired that year, more restless and nervous then ever.

The problems for the Bates had not yet ended and even if Thomas didn’t admit to anyone, he was worried to Anna. Sometimes mentioned it to Jimmy, in responses to his rare letters.

Thomas waited for months, but he knew he would have to wait. Jimmy had never been really fond of him, at least not with the strength, the attachment and the steadiness through which Thomas showed affection.

He soon realized there were people in the world who, regardless of how they behaved or what they said, for a fortunate set of circumstances, a way to smile, to bow their head to one side, the shape of their face or eyes, a certain reflection in hair, an infinitesimal shade, enjoyed total and unconditional approval.

Lady Mary was among them and Jimmy too, and young Ivy or Philip. The majority, had to be only average polite and kind to  please others  and then ... then there were people like him.

Anything he said or did was always held up as arrogant, conceited, too cold, too vain, too weird. At home, at school, in-service, every time he opened his mouth, asked, answered, he could read blame, bewilderment, distrust in the eyes of others. 

At the beginning he rebelled, tried to show, especially at home, especially at school, that behind what others branded as arrogance there was only an intelligent mind, without any hypocrisy, sincere in judging his skills. Eventually, after too many disappointments and sorrows, he got tired and decided not to prove anything to anyone.

Therefore Thomas worshiped without shadows and unconditionally, forever, the few people who still approached him without judging, showing concern, kindness and, in rare cases, love. His mother, the butler of Fetherstonhaugh, cousin Rufus, Lady Sybil, poor Edward, and now Phyllis.

Instead  Jimmy... Thomas understood istantly that night. He continued to protect, support, love him, but he didn’t expected anything anymore. "There's nothing between us, except my fist if you don't get out!" He had repeated those words a thousand times in his head, even after, even when Jimmy agreed to be his friend, even in the morning Jimmy greeted him and left with eyes down and a sad and unhappy expression on his face. Always. For many reasons. 

Because Thomas had been kind, had approached him slowly, he tried to create a contact whenever he could, he spoken to him and tried to know him.  The meaning of all his smiles, all his gestures was clear. 

It would be just enough to make him understand that he was wrong. A glare, an abrupt gesture. He would understand. He always understood.

Everyone knew Thomas counted for nothing in the house, that his work there was finished with Bates’s  return. 

Jimmy would have no need to pretend there was an interest, if not for his smugness, because Thomas, in that situation, could not be neither help nor a hindrance in any way. 

Yet Jimmy had deceived him to the end, ‘cause he could not think Thomas had feelings too, or worse, that his feelings might have some importance. Thomas was always expendable, always. Jimmy was not different from the others, and realized something only faced with a swollen face and a couple of broken ribs.

But at that point he did not expect anything. For this reason he never wrote first. The letters, short, arrived every three or four months. Immediately Thomas recognized the handwriting from the address, slipped fast in the inside pocket of his jacket the envelope a bored Carson handed him and left it there all day, trying not to think about it,  touching the edges with his fingertips every moment.

In the  evening he undressed, slipped into bed and slowly turned the envelope from all sides, then opened and read greedily those few lines once, twice, a hundred times and when the letters were beginning to blur in front of his tired eyes he shed the sheet, turned off the light and fell asleep. He felt tears stinging his eyes, but he fell asleep.

Then Thomas waited at least a week and then a few more days and finally had had enough: one evening he took pen and paper and wrote, wrote, told about him, how he was, how much he missed Jimmy, how he felt , everything. Then he tore the sheet and began to write again, this time a few lines: Lady Mary seems to have no more suitors, children grow up, Molesley and Baxter are cooing like doves, Daisy is getting an education, Lady Rose marries ... Things like this. Nothing about himself, never. It would have been useless, he knew. Jimmy would not care truly. And he did not want to bore him, truly.

Sometimes he cried, first more often, then, with the passage of time, less and less. 

After the interruption of that absurd "cure", slowly even the physical pain, caused by the injections before and by the infection after, somehow had passed, giving relief to the body but also, in some way, to the soul, as if the wound had gone because had gone even the flesh, and there was nothing to rankle.


	2. Chapter 2

For Christmas the family hired a new footman, with Thomas busy as valet, and Carson sent for Andy from London.  For a brief moment Thomas  hoped Jimmy could return. He even mentioned the possibility to his lordship but the look Lord Grantham gave him destroyed any hope.

Andy arrived in a cold and gray day of December and immediately tried to do his best, relieved to know Mrs Denker never went to Downton, overjoyed to gain experience in a big house and even happier to meet Mr. Barrow again, looking at him always with wide smiles, occurrence incomprehensible to everyone, even to Thomas.

Sybbie, George and little Marigold worship him, because Andy left younger brothers at home and knew so many games and how to make children laugh. He also knew how to make Thomas laugh, maybe because he wasn’t experienced about gambling, but he was a hallboy since he was fourteen and knew the life in service: he quickly figured out the mechanisms and complex relationships that ruled life upstairs and downstairs and had sharp opinions that sometimes showed to Mr. Barrow so sincerely  that Thomas had been forced to oblige him to not speak when he sipped his tea, after more than a couple of times he threatened to choke trying to swallow and laugh simultaneously.

So April arrived and gone and May gave anyone, with time and inclination, endless fields of daisies and erika to look at. Thomas sometimes had the inclination, if not the time. He lit a cigarette and walked up to the fence that enclosed the path to Ripon, the light breeze stroking his face and hair.  Occasionally Andy joined him and remained a few minutes in silence, watching the sea of purple and white. He didn’t smoke, or rather, he didn’t smoke cigarettes. He preferred small cigars and now and then, especially after a very tiring day,  while Thomas smoked two or three Woodbine, Andy savored slowly one of those cigars with a sweet and gentle aroma, turning occasionally it between his long fingers. 

At first it was a bit of fun but then Thomas got accustomed to cigars and to many other small things. The kindnesses for example, that made the long days of work much more bearable, the hours shorter: a copy of The Evening News left in the chair by the fireplace, the water still boiling in the pot along with a few slices of freshly baked bread on the table coming back from London late at night with his lordship, the shirts he had forgotten to bring up from laundry resting on the bed when he was cursing the idea of going down to take them.

Andy was a hard worker and wanted to do well and when he had to do something with Mr. Barrow was enthusiastic:  he always made so many questions and was attentive to every movement or comment.

But his enthusiasm was not limited to the work: he tried to match the free afternoons with Mr. Barrow’s, and was always ready to accompany him for a commission. Thomas had shown him surroundings and the shortcuts to get to the village and Ripon. He brought him in the usual shops, laughed when Andy changed road seeing Denker from afar, and occasionally went to drink a pint at the Grantham Arms.

Then they walked back to Downton Abbey, sometimes without saying a word, sometimes chatting quite intensely. About Downton, about Molesley and Baxter, about Carson and Mrs Hughes, about domestic policy, situation in Germany, fashion of the season.

"I don’t like trousers wide leg at all." Andy looked at some pictures on a copy of the Saturday Evening Post taken in Ripon with a puzzled expression. "The jackets instead are amazing, with the lapels so wide! "

"Yeah ... maybe not in that color ..." Thomas stared in disgust a  yellow suit proudly displayed on the cover of the magazine.

"You must have a strong personality ..."

"And a strong love for the flies!" Thomas added laughing. "Gray is better"

Andy nodded gravely "Yes, gray is better, or dark brown. Pinstripe? "

The man rolled his eyes. "Why so much interest? I mean, I do not think you follow carefully what they write in the magazines, here ..." Thomas looked at Andy’s jacket, whose sleeves were still too short even though you could see clearly they were already stretched at least twice and the lapels weren’t wide as recommended by The Evening Post, but definitely consumed.

"Well, maybe it could happen to valet sometimes, no? Better stay aware" Andy looked at him smiling, and Thomas automatically smiled in turn "Yes, of course, it can happen. I did it many times when I was footman. "

"And..." Andy suddenly became serious, almost sad "We are a large family. Two older brothers and three younger after me. Many kids and few money.  I never had anything new in my entire life. Even now ... " He indicated jacket and trousers with an eloquent gesture "Maybe that’s why…" And then, again, Andy smiled.

It was something completely different from being with Jimmy, no regrets, no sadness. Thomas was not always careful, worried to give the wrong impression and Andy looked relaxed and peaceful with him more than with anyone else.


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes Thomas wondered when it would end, who would be kind enough to tell Andy that their friendship was a bit compromising and Mr. Barrow was a disreputable companion. Mr. Carson? Mrs Patmore? What would Andy do?  Would he try to understand? Would react angrily? Would go away? 

The thought made him feel bad, it was the only thing that wasted an otherwise peaceful period, probably the most serene of his adult life. He even thought of talking to Andy himself, but the memory of Jimmy’s cruel reaction kept him. 

A bit of warmth yet, the presence of another human being, this good feeling of being accepted. Just a bit, just a bit of those gentle smiles, of that sincere interest.

With the years the loneliness had became the greatest burden. Sex wouldn’t be a problem, but it wasn’t what Thomas wanted, not only. He wanted to care for someone, and someone who cared. A companion, a home, a life.

Even though Thomas repeated himself to the point of nausea, during the past months, that the situation could not last as it was and he should not expect anything, incredibly when the house of cards collapsed Thomas found himself exposed and fragile, not ready at all.

One evening in mid-June Thomas entered the boot room and found Andy along with one of the maids. He was leaning against the cabinet across the room and the girl, on tiptoe, stood with his arms around his neck and kissed him. When Thomas opened the door the couple separated shooting: Andy tidied up the jacket a bit intimidated, then he realized that was Thomas coming in and his face twisted in an expression of sadness and horror at the same time.

"Mr Barrow!" The voice cracked "It is not as it seems, you must believe me, you must believe me!"

Thomas smiled with kindness "Don’t worry, it's nothing wrong Andy, nothing wrong. But you must be more careful." He tried to use a fatherly tone "I don’t care, but Mr. Carson or Mrs Hughes… well you wouldn’t avoid a scolding... "

Those were the last words he could say, the others choked his throat. The cheeks of the girl had become purple but her eyes were still bright and dilated with excitement for the kiss. Thomas, looking at her, unexpectedly felt speechless with rage, a rage suppressed for long  and now impossible to stem: the Lady Anstruther affair, all that horrible story of "choose your own path" and the empty nonsense words of Dr. Clarkson, the horror of behave like a fool once again in front of himself if not of everyone else, everything rose to the surface, tightening his chest, impeding breathing. With an effort that seemed unbelievable Thomas suddenly turned around and walked away, out of the room, out of the house, toward the fence and the path, almost running. Andy followed him right away, shaking off unceremoniously little Betsy, for once amazingly speechless.

When he was far enough from the house began to call "Mr. Barrow, please, Mr. Barrow, where are you?" But Thomas did not answer. He did not want to be seen in such a state, and most of all he feared what he might say. His tongue could be still sharp. But Andy was stubborn and somewhat desperate, and continued to look for him until, among the trees, he saw the red glow of a cigarette which  led him  up to Thomas, leaning with his left shoulder against a tree, his head lowered forward.

"Mr Barrow..." his moaning was that of a wounded animal. Thomas did not understand why he was so worried. For heaven's sake, a footman and a maid flirting, it was so common!

"It's all right Andy, everything's fine. Go back to her. Come on! " Walking towards the trees he managed to calm down a bit, just enough to not pounce on him as a fury, but Andy had to leave immediately, or he didn’t  know what would happen.

The voice was cracked, as if about to cry "Go away my boy, go away. I'll be fine. "

"No!" Andy shouted that no "I don’t leave, I don’t go back to that stupid little girl and the hell I let you alone. I told her to stop being silly, I don’t care about her, but she is daft" As he spoke so approached Thomas and tried to look at his face, but the other kept his head bowed stubbornly.

"Thomas, look at me, please ... I ... I ... I can’t keep away from you!"

Thomas started to get nervous again "Andy ..." If only he could breathe... "Andy, my boy, it’s all right. It’s all right. You're a good boy, you  work so hard. If not Betsy, soon you’ll meet another girl, a girl from the village... " The words died in his throat.  _Oh God!_  He didn’t take it anymore.  _Now he will go, no more chats in the evening, no more walks to Ripon, nothing, nothing, as always._  He snuggled down. The pain on the chest was excruciating.

Andy knelt near him. "Thomas ... Are you okay? What happens? Do you need something?"

He grabbed his arm, shaking his head vehemently. "I'm fine, I'm fine!"

"Thomas ..." Andy was worried. He began to stroke his arm gently.

"Thomas, I don’t want to meet anyone. I have everything I want here, everything I want ... everything I ever wanted" Andy toke Thomas’s hands between his and touched the back of them in small circles with his  fingertips. "Why did you run away? Why did you do it if it’s all right? The truth is you don’t want me to leave, isn’t it?" He leaned his forehead against his, the voice barely a whisper "Thomas ... Look at me please ... Thomas ..." He began to pass fingers through his hair, on his right temple. Now that he had started, he could not stop touching him. "From the first moment I saw you, in London, I thought “Wish I and that one...', 'wouldn't I and him...' You were handsome. And then you spoke to me, with your sweet and sad voice, and I was no more able to see or hear anything but you... "

Thomas, incredulous, raised his  head a bit "WHAT?"


	4. Chapter 4

Andy could not have said such those words, he must have misheard. But two trembling hands cupped his face and Andy leant in to kiss him, his thumbs tracing a line along his jaw.

At first he barely touched Thomas lips, cringing immediately, checking his reaction,  but Thomas remained motionless,  looking at him with wide, wet, astonished and frightened eyes. So Andy leant again.

Thomas arched his back, inviting more and he began to bite gently his lower lip, then sucking. 

Feeling Thomas lips moving apart he started to explore the mouth with the tip of the tongue. The flavor was good, sweet, a mixture of nicotine and something unique and fresh that Andy liked immensely.

Tongues began to caress, the tips searching and touching greedily each other. The kiss was now hungry and wet. Andy grabbed Thomas by the arms and lifted him up kindly against a trunk. 

Without breaking the kiss Andy began to stroke his hips and neck and then his hands were between his legs and Thomas groaned and the hoarse moans made Andy lose clarity of thought. He was only desire and instinct as he knelt, trying desperately to unbutton Thomas pants with trembling fingers. Thomas for a moment reacted helping, then all of a sudden stopped him.

"No, no! Forget about it. Forget about it! Listen to me! " Andy, at first, didn’t  understand, as if he hear the sound of the words but not the meaning. Then he began to pay attention and stopped.  He was looking at him with dreamy eyes, breathing deeply. "What’s wrong? Too fast? Forgive me, forgive me ... but you're so sweet, so sweet ... "

Thomas stiffened, trying to move away, to put space between them, while the other moved closer. "Listen to me, listen to me. Please!" He took his chin with a hand trying to hold him down, because Andy was rubbing against him again, stroking his cheeks and cheekbones with the tip of the nose, whispering incoherent words into his ear that made Thomas shivering and trembling. He sighed and pushed him away "Andy! You must bloody listen to me!"

Finally he had his full attention. "Andy, we must come back, it's almost midnight. If we don’t hurry they’ll come to look for us or worse shut us out and I assure you it wouldn’t be enjoyable... Understand? Yes?" The other gave a nod with the head.

_We must go back._

He tried to calm down and tidy his livery as best as he could, then  doggedly followed Thomas who was walking  slowly because of the trembling knees and the clouded thoughts. Arriving to the wall that separated the yard from the street, Andy quickened his pace and grabbed Thomas by an arm, whispering to his ear “See you later". Then he walked away quickly, arriving before Thomas to the back door, miraculously open thanks to Molesley, who had not yet returned from an evening visit to his father. 

They went quietly up the stairs and into their rooms, Andy without looking back, Thomas checking that everything was all right and lingering to close a couple of windows.

Now he was sitting on the edge of the bed, in the darkness, confused, unable to put together coherent thoughts. He hadn’t noticed anything… He had assumed Andy liked women, delicate, with warm smiles, like Daisy and Anna. The boy was always kind of course, and stuck to him like a puppy, even if he was anything but a  puppy that evening! Thomas had been blind, because Andy seemed so young, so inexperienced about life unlike him... How was he like then? He sighed. Thirty-tree years. How many more than him? Nine? Maybe ten. Not many, certainly not according to Andy. But Thomas felt a thousand years old.  After the affair with Jimmy, after feeling rejected every minute of every day of all those years, he had lost confidence in his own body. He ran a hand through his hair. They were still soft and thick, no trace of gray. Certainly he looked tired and sad, and the pride of the past no longer existed. 

The electroshock was a tremendous experience that still haunted him in his worst nightmares. Even if the following months hadn’t left marks in the flesh, they had made deep wounds in his soul. But Andy could see them?

Lost in this thought Thomas had not even heard the door open. Andy slipped into the room and locked the handle with the chair. Then he turned around and whispered "Thomas!" .

He got close to him an brought Thomas hands to his lips. "May I?" He was trying desperately to restore physical contact stroking his face, arms, shoulders. He lifted the shirt and caressed him everywhere, insisting on his back, first with fingertips, then, possessive, with the palms of the hands, focusing on the hips and then slipping down, between the skin and the fabric of the pants. "Thomas," he sighed, "Is everything all right? May I? "

Thomas nodded and Andy went mad. They got rid of pajamas and laid down on the bed too narrow intertwining their long legs, exchanging endless kisses and caresses. Thomas found himself hungry for tenderness, kindness. And scared. He had tried for so long to hide his desires, to repress his impulses that now that he could, that he wanted to express them he was not able to feel anything. Andy looked at him, his eyes wide and gentle, and stroked him everywhere, and between his legs, with infinite sensitivity.

At one point he stopped "Is it my fault? Is it because I’m so ugly?" Thomas looked down, his hands resting on his chest. "Is it because I’m not Jimmy?" The last sentence was almost a sob, he made it hard to say it.

Until a moment before Andy had believed to touch the sky. Thomas was in his arms, desired, adorable, soft, languid, wonderful, returning his kisses, his caresses in a way not even human. Naked Thomas was heartbreakingly beautiful, even more than Andy had ever thought, dreamed. He felt choked with  emotion, the stomach in turmoil, trembling hands caressing every inch of that incredible skin, so pale in the cold light of the moon to seem unreal, with shades of blue. He started to rub against him, desperately searching for contact and relief to his erection, but he felt something wrong. It was not as it should be.  He started  to caress Thomas  between his thighs, at first smooth, then upset.

Thomas was not excited at all. His kisses were deep, moist, languid; he was stroking and scratching Andy’s skin exploring his buttocks with inquiring fingers, so why? Maybe he had done or said something, or maybe it was him, and Thomas was simply too polite to refuse. It was him to kiss first, to hug, to come to his room ... He had behaved like a fool.  How could he have thought Thomas liked him, so awkward and ugly?

"What do you know about Jimmy?" His voice was quiet and sad. Thomas was leaning on his shoulder and continued to stroke him.

Andy was sulking, but continued to hold the other, more by instinct than by real awareness "Rumors. You know, the house has no secrets. The hallboys told me you were always stuck, that you almost ended the phrases he began, and hid all his mistakes even in spite of Carson. And then Daisy and Mrs Patmore told he was so beautiful the dowager said he looked like a footman in a musical, and you were completely different when he was here, always kind, always ceremonious." Andy was angry now. "And when you receive his letters Mrs. Hughes always rolls her eyes, and also Mrs. Baxter snorts, and the hallboys heard Mr Bates teasing Jimmy because he had screamed to send you away and then he was always attached to the edges of your jacket. "

He was beginning to feel a bit cold now. He tried to get up  "Forgive me, maybe it was a mistake. I was too insistent, and you too kind. Maybe it's better I go to my room. "

Thomas hid the face in Andy’s shoulder, holding hard.  "Please, Andy, stay here. Don’t leave me alone. Do you know how long has it been since someone touched me? Do you know how long has it been since I received a hug, a caress, a kiss? Years, Andy,  years. More than twelve years had passed since someone kissed me and held me tight in his arms" Thomas was trying to hold back the tears, unsuccessfully.

Andy was puzzled. Jimmy had gone the year before. "More than ... twelve?"

“There has never been anything with Jimmy. Not for his part... I ... I thought ... I thought he was like me” Andy frowned and stroked him tenderly "Like us… "

"Like us, like us." There was  really an us? Could he really talk to him? Would Andy really understand?

"I tried, I tried to take care of him, even if he didn’t care about me. One can’t control feelings. And at least he was my friend, evenings spent talking, sometimes going to Ripon. I could ... "

The boy added mechanically "You could see him every day, knowing that he was fine ..." Yes, Andy understood.

"And then they sent him away, and I was alone again, and it was even worse than before. I tried to change, I tried a lot, but I'm what I am, I can’t be anything different. I wanted to deserve his friendship, his affection…"

Andy stroked his neck and back, running his fingers through his hair "What’s the meaning of changing?"

"Become like the others, try to date a ... a woman."

The other was puzzled again "How?"

"Medical therapy, electroshock ..."

Andy snapped like a spring "Electroshock? Therapies? What have they done to you?" He had heard something about asylums, where they used electroshock to make fools not scream, not make noises.

"Shhhhh, not so loudly! I went in London, I meet  a doctor. He told me that I had to learn, to understand that ... what I feel was wrong, by the electroschock…  and then he gave me medicines, which would help me to change, but it didn’t work. No, it was killing me. And when I stopped I realized that things were not going well about… about sex, about getting  hard, but even before I, I tried not to think about it, you must understand I couldn’t think about it, let go my fantasies, hopes, because it would be  hell, so close to him every day, but he didn’t want me, never want me ... " He began to sob "Why not me? Why? " The tears were running down his cheeks, down toward the neck, salty and bitter. "I know he could not do otherwise, everyone follows his nature, but it is so painful, so difficult ..."

"I am here Thomas, I'm here," Andy searched his mouth, kissed him, holding his face in his hands. Thomas words made him sad and angry  "I am here, and I want you, and I want to be with you and I want to take care of you, please believe me" Andy felt his heart frozen. He loked at Thomas, trying to understand how it would be to feel rejected to the point of refusing themselves, of wanting to change at any cost ...

"Even if I can’t ... get aroused, if you want ... I can ..." He couldn’t look him in the eyes, blushing until the tips of the ears "We can do things that don’t need me to be hard ..."

 

Andy at first didn’t understand, then grabbing the speech, reacted  " No Thomas, no, I want we fell good together, do you undestand? If for you are enough kisses and caresses,  so it's perfect. I don’t want anything more "

Andy hugged Thomas tight, rocking him gently.

"For me it was not easy, too. At Lennox house the butler suspected about me and treated me badly. I was never promoted, the third footman was younger than me ... after all those years working as a beast, waking up since five o’clock in the morning until late at  night, cleaning, polishing, loading and unloading. They always said I was daft, making jokes.  They made fun of me. There, but also at home. My brothers, because I had no girlfriend,  I was not dating girls, they said I was clumsy, because even the two youngest had done things and I didn’t, but  could I tell them what I had done? Could  I tell I knew how to kiss, how to do things? They would ask with who, and then what would I say? They always teased me.  And my mum and dad don’t say anything , but they took the money I brought home ... I always had second-hand things: clothes, my parent’s love, work. Everything" He raised his head and looked at him with hungry eyes "But you are first class Mr. Barrow, and I want you, I want you so much." He started to kiss and lick and bite him on the neck, behind the ears, on the chest. Andy found his nipples and begun to tease them with his teeth and fingertips until they had become swollen. The faint shadow of stubble made his small torture even more exciting and enjoyable. He seemed to have all the time in the world.

Thomas was so astonished  he could not say a word. He had always thought Andy was a naive and kind guy, with a heart a bit too soft. Instead he was a man who knew to suffer and keep smiling. A brave man, stronger than him.

"Andy?"

"Andrew" The voice was a bit suffocated, he was playing with his navel.

Thomas didn’t understand "What?"

"Andrew, call me Andrew. Andy is good for a hallboy, I'm a man"

Thomas smiled, but not to tease him. "It 's true Andrew. You're a man, more than you think ..." He started playing with his soft curls, rolling up them to his fingers.  Then slid his hands on the arms, on the shoulders, on the skin toned and smooth. He felt strong and tense muscles  under his fingerstips. It seemed impossible that they could yeld under the pressure of his finger. He trembled at the feeling of strength, of power.

"Andrew, you're ... You're so beautiful, you're a beautiful male. Your body is so elastic and the skin seems velvet ... "

Andy was blushing. "Maybe the body is not so bad, even if I’m still so awkward ... you don’t feel it, but when you enter a room you fill it, not as you are inside, but as the room is around you ... and if you enter in a shop or pub, they all turn to look at you, because you're always so straight that you look even taller than me. And I have this face without sense, the eyes too big and those protruding ears ... "

Thomas took his chin in his hand lifting his head, "That's what they said? So they teased you? Those things are just nonsense Andrew, they said so to hurt you. It’s all nonsense"

Andy shook his head "I look at myself in the mirror, what do you think? I'll never be as gorgeous as your Jimmy, with blond curls and blue eyes and the physique of a vaudeville dancer ... "

"He wasn’t my Jimmy, but God knows I wish you were my Andrew ..."

 _My Andrew ..._  Andy was on fire, cheeks, skin, between his thighs. He started to kiss him eager, trying to stick his body to Thomas, rubbing against him, unable to control himself.  He was whispering obscenities in his ear: which parts of him he liked more, how much he liked to watch his ass from the hallway as he climbed the stairs, how beautiful and sensual were his hips, what he wanted to lick and bite. Thomas grinned, he felt like a kid on holiday, and Andy was so hot and excited and exciting that he could almost feel the same things too. Andy suddenly realized that something was changed. Thomas had relaxed and just wanted to be with Andy and feel good, and his body still healthy and strong had begun to react, his cock getting hard. Gently but decisively Andy knelt on the floor near the edge of the bed, leaning between Thomas legs. He was happy, scared a mistake could ruin that moment, but happy, and because he loved sex, and men, and particularly Thomas, that night the world seemed to him a perfect place to live in. And Thomas found he was still able to feel life pulsing through his veins, and he was only thirty-three, and could afford the luxury of hope.


	5. Chapter 5

As the night turned in dawn and Thomas breath became more regular in his sleep, Andrew slipped away and went back to his room. But he couldn’t fall asleep. He was hungry and dazed. He dressed and went into the kitchen, where swallowed toast and tea until Mrs Patmore found him and, shouting, sent him to the village with a list of stuff to buy.

Walking toward Ripon while the cool breeze caressed his face, Andrew felt happy. He was in love with Thomas. He was in love with him from the first moment he saw him, in London, tall and beautiful, with ink hair in amazing contrast with those blue and sad eyes. He looked like a prince of a fairy tale, a knight in shining armour.

Thomas had showed him the house, and explained the work to be done, and Andy had been happy to trot along him, buying everything he sold. And then there had been the story about Denker, and he had defended him, helped him. It had been wonderful.

At the “Velvet Violin” with that dark suit and the inseparable fag between his lips, he seemed to get out of a novel by Edgar Wallace. No one had ever helped him in his entire life... Even if he was so sorry to make a fool of himself in front of him. And then they haired him at Downton and he meet Thomas again and he could not ask for more. The job he wanted and Mr. Barrow near him: it was all too good to be true. The walks, the confidences, the card games after dinner.

Some time after began little gossip. Innuendo, tittle-tattle, stories about this footman named Jimmy who was there before him and had been sent away suddendly, and about he and Thomas so close. Andy did not want to spoil it, but he was beginning to hope. If there had been something between Mr. Barrow and Jimmy, and Jimmy was gone, maybe Mr. Barrow felt lonely and he was there ...

That evening Andy was removing a stain from his livery in the boot room. Betsy stood around and chatted as usual but he wasn’t listening. He didn’t like her. He liked Anna, so delicate and reserved, and he liked Daisy, practical and always smiling, at least with him, but Betsy had something annoying, a way of touching with any excuse, of making allusions that made him eager to run away. That evening, however, Andy was distracted: he thought about the guests expected for the following day, and when he turned around he found that dull little girl too much close. He lost his balance and she leaned against him, throwing her arms around him and taking the opportunity to kiss him.

When he heard someone entering thanked heaven that he or she came to rescue him, but then he realized the someone in the room was Mr. Barrow , with an unreadable expression on his face. If it was anger, sadness or pain Andy couldn’t tell.

Then Thomas  run away and Andy, before even realize it, was following him. Instinctively he didn’t want to leave him alone, as if he felt a wrench in the middle of the chest and the only way to relieve the pain was to stay near him.

Thomas was brave and smart and proud and bossy, but in those months Andy had learned he had too many wounds and was fragile and insecure under the cold and sullen façade. For this reason Andrew loved him even more.

It was the first time he felt so. He wanted to stay close to Thomas, to care for him, he wanted his hands on him and his kisses and caresses and smiles.

He soon had realized his inclination. When, during the summer season, he went with his brothers and their friends to swim in the ditch a couple of miles away from home, he knew why he liked to watch the boys undress and jump into the cool water in those sultry afternoons, but he had not thought much about it. Even then he worked from dawn to dusk and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and knew that neither God nor men cared much about what he liked or not. Then he met others like him. The boy who sometimes made deliveries, the coal man, the guy who cleaned the gutters. At first only an exchange of glances and smiles, then a few words, a few beers and then the darkness of an alley and kisses and hands that searched and touched and heart pounding and knees trembling. But it was curiosity, excitement, hunger for life, sex.

Now it was a completely different feeling. 

Andy entered the servants hall with a radiant smile, his cheeks flushed for the morning walk, and found all sitting for breakfast. Even Thomas. Beautiful and severe as ever.

The bells on the panel started playing, everyone stood up and began another long day of work.

 

\-------

 

That morning Thomas had been awakened by Oliver’s shots at the door. Usually he rose nearly an hour before, and when the boy knocked he was ready. But that day Thomas felt tired and still sleepy.

As soon as he sat down on the edge of the bed, he was assaulted by the memory of what had happened the night before. Damn it! He had been a fool, a complete idiot! To lose control that way, to talk about the therapy, about Jimmy! Sure Andy was sweet, and it had been wonderful to stay with him ...

And if he had blackmailed him? He could ruin him. Maybe he wanted money? He could get him fired. Carson would have been happy to finally get rid of him. But he had embraced him tenderly. He could still feel his arms around him and the kisses and the caresses…

It couldn’t be. One moment he was kissing that girl, Beth, no, Betsy, and then all of a sudden he said he wanted him. No, no, seeing him so vulnerable he must have thought it could be possible to obtain something. But he had confided in him too, and when he had told about Jimmy, Andy had understood...

As he shaved, in the cold light of morning, the mirror gave back an image unlike to recognize, a sharp look watching him devoid of humanity and understanding.

_You are old Thomas, look at you, you're pathetic! Don’t you see the wrinkles at the sides of the eyes and around the mouth? And the belly? You are dull and heavy, perhaps you had had a pretty face but this pout wasted it. How did you fall so low? Sobbing in the arms of a boy, which now can ruin you. How can you think he likes you?_

Thomas looked away. He is different, he is kind, he understands. I have never been so cherished, no one has ever looked at me the way he do. I can trust. I want to trust.

But while he combed, his reflection seemed to tease him. 

_You can trust him, sure, as Jimmy. You trusted him too, when you went to his room that night to tell him they sent you away but he couldn’t worry, you could stay in touch, write each other, you could still be close to him and help him, and what did he told to you? What? There's nothing between us, except my fist if you don't get out!_

He couldn’t knot the bow tie. His hands were shaking. He couldn’t say why. Anger? Fear?

He put his hands through his hair. The tension was tearing him. He was so weak. What should he do? He didn’t know anymore. He was confused. And helpless. So vulnerable. And scared.

"Mr. Barrow? There’s any problem? " Carson was looking from the doorway.

 _Smile._ "No, of course not. A wonderful day Mr. Carson. Do you go down with me? "

They toke the stairs without another word. While Thomas was trying to swallow at least a sip of tea, Andy entered the back door, his cheeks flushed for the morning walk, a happy smile on his face. Maybe he could trust. Maybe he should stop being afraid.

The bells on the panel started playing, everyone stood up and began another long day of work.

  
\------

  
"Then what happened?" Betsy stood before him with folded arms, beating the little foot on the ground.  
"Nothing, absolutely nothing. Mr. Barrow  felt ill and I went to see what was wrong, that's all. And as for the rest, I told you how I feel" Andy and the girl were near the fireplace in the servants hall.

Thomas was about to enter when one of the hall boys called him for a nonsense, and now he stood near the door, torn between the desire to scare away the girl and the need to listen to what they were talking about.

"And how you feel then?" She lifted the little chin defiantly, hands on her hips.

"First I don’t like girls shameless and pushing like you, and then I’m are not a good match, it is useless to try to ensnare me. I'm not worth anything. I send home all that gain, I’m just a waste of time for you" Andy had a tone firm, but a bit sad at the end of the sentence. Or at least Thomas felt the sadness.

"Now we are talking! I’ll do it a reason! Bye! " Betsy left snorting, bumped Thomas going out and snorted even louder.

Andrew was leaning against the fireplace with a blank look, but smiled immediately seeing him "Mr Barrow..."  
Thomas tried to maintain a neutral expression himself "Andrew... Did you and Molesley end to polish the silverware? Are the glasses of cherry in place? Did you tell Mr. Hughes the florist tomorrow will come in the late morning? "

Andrew answered every question with small, serious nods. Then the others came for tea and they didn’t have a breather until after dinner.

Thomas had gone out to smoke the last cigarette of the day, and Andrew reached him in the yard and sat next to him on the bench.

"Eventually this day is over. I don’t feel my legs anymore ... "He pulled out one of his little cigars but twisted it between his fingers without lighting it. He looked around furtively, then bowed his head, "Can I come tonight?" In the darkness Thomas could only see the white of his eyes and of the shirt. He rose and walked briskly toward the fence. Andy followed him.

"I dunno. I don’t think it is right ..."

"Too tired? It was a busy day, with all these guests…"

"It is not for that. I think it's not a good idea. This whole thing is not a good idea"

Andrew was shaking. He clung to the boards. " Why? What's wrong? "

Thomas was an impenetrable mask, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. "What do you want Andy? What are you searching for?" The man looked at him in astonishment, without understanding. If someone had punched him, he wouldn’t have been so surprised. "What do you mean?"

"What do you want? Do you think to blackmail me? I have only the things I wear and the few things in my room. If you want money I don’t have it, and if you want a recommendation it’s time wasted. Carson hates me, he never listen to me. And Lord Gratham too! So if you think you can gain something you're mistaken!"

"Thomas?" Andy's face was ashen and he had a bitter taste in the mouth. He tried to think, but his mind was empty and could not connect. Instinctively he kept an eye on the door, that suddenly opened. The Bates came back to the cottage.

"Good night, Andrew. Mr Barrow ... It’s all right?" Thomas and Andy were facing each other, their backs straight, taut nerves, like two roosters ready to fight.

Thomas turned his head imperceptibly "Of course Anna. The last cigarette and then we can call it a night. Goodnight" The tone was quiet but resolute.

Bates toke his wife's arm, "Well, maybe we'll talk tomorrow morning. Let’s go darling. Goodnight Andy. Thomas..." He knew Bates said it on purpose but did not resist, he never resisted "Mr Barrow for you!" Bates smiled "Yes, of course, Thomas, of course."

They waited in silence that the two figures moved away in the dark, the only noise the consumed nicotine of Thomas cigarette. Minutes seemed hours.

Andrew was the first to shoot. He walked over, bending forward defiantly. Certainly he knew how to intimidate an opponent "What are you saying? What the fuck are you saying? What sort of person do you think I am? You're sick, you're not sane, you are touched in the head!"

He held his neck stretched forward and his arms at his sides, but something made it clear that he could hit at any time and the effect was even more disturbing than to show his fists. He had never felt so angry, so insulted in all his life. "You insecure, frail little man who cannot even get what he want!" But then he looked at Thomas, shoulders bowed, sad eyes, narrow lips. Anger evaporated in an instant. He knew what to do.

"Thomas" The voice a whisper "Look at me." He had approached a few steps. "Look at me. It's me. The same as yesterday and a week ago. I’m the one you helped against Denker, I’m the one who plays cards with you every night, you had drank with me in your free afternoons for the past six months, I held you in my arms last night. Look at me. I’m not Jimmy, nor any ghost of the past that poisoned your life. You know it, do you?” He was looking at him gently.

"Are you scared? I am too. What if we are wrong? What if we are deluding ourselves? What if we lay off? If, if, if ... Doubts lead nowhere. And what if we are right? What If we could be together, take care of each other? Would not it be nice? " He reached out, but stopped immediately. Thomas stood rigid and motionless, without saying a word. Andrew remained silent for a moment, then added "Take all the time you need. And if you decide it can work, come to me. Otherwise…" He sighed "Otherwise there was nothing to talk about... "

He turned around and leaved, heart heavy and head bowed. Thomas remained alone in the yard that seemed immense that night and dark despite the brilliant sky full of stars.

The days passed boring and empty. Andy kept away as much as he could without arousing suspicion. He didn’t laugh, however, nor smile, even with the others. He did what he had to do and then he read his usual magazines in a corner.

After a while Mrs Patmore started to make jokes about what would ruin the honeymoon between him and Mr. Barrow, but the look Andrew gave really scared her, so immediately stopped.

Thomas knew he was behaving like a fool. He was hurting himself, he was great at it, to keep from living, it was the only thing he could do.

One night he jumped up from the bed. He could not breathe. The walls suffocated him. Loneliness choked him. He remembered Andrew's arms around him, his warm body, his caresses.

Quietly entered his room, blocked the handle with the chair and leaned back to the door, holding his breath.

Andrew was awake, in two steps was near him and embraced him and kept whispering "You're here, you come to me. I was so scared I made a mess. Thomas, Thomas..." And he kissed him.


	6. Chapter 6

Thomas sheltered in his arms, grabbing him with the desperation of a drowning man "I am sorry Andy, I'm so sorry. I'm a fool, I said so much nonsense. I was cruel, I was an idiot. "

Andrew placed two fingers on his lips "Schhhhh, not here. Not so close to the door, they can hear us. Let's move" He drove him across the room, near the window, kissing and holding him.

June had arrived bringing wetness and night thunderstorms. Even at that hour of the night it was raining heavily.

Andrew leant against the wall and grabbed Thomas by his hips, getting close. Thomas rested the head on his shoulder snuggling up to him. 

"I like the rain.  This smell wet and clean in the air. In London it wasn’t the same. Do you feel cold Thomas?" He was trembling.

"Yup. No... Dunno.  I feel cold from the inside, I guess." Andrew sighed and looked for his lips and Thomas instinctively took his face in his hands, but the other shrank away, as though something stung him "What is it? "

Thomas didn’t understand immediately, then smiled "Ah! The scar....  I don’t wear the glove at night"  
Andrew took his hand gently, caressing the rough and thick points with the fingertips, then he brought it back to his face, rubbing against his cheek.

 "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all. Only… I didn’t realize what it was so suddenly... Does it hurt? "

"Not much. Nothing unbearable." Thomas stroked his cheek again, slowly. 

“You served in the War?"

Thomas instinctively frowned "Yes, in the medical corps. First in a regimental aid post in France, then in the trenches of the Somme.  I thought I'd gone mad or dead, or both things. We went out into No Man’s Land to pick up anybody alive. They should have complied a sort of unofficial truce, letting us pick up the wounded,  but those bastards gave the order to keep firing, from both sides. And we were there, under fire, an easy target for the snipers, and all those men agonizing ..." Thomas leaned against the wall, then slid down on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, glassy eyes. Andrew sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I don’t talk willingly about it.  I never told anyone since I came back from the Front actually. I don’t know why I tell you all these things, I shouldn’t ... I don’t know. Every time I trust someone, they hurt me. And I'm so tired of fighting my corner. Even in that place where I did the electro therapy, they really seemed to want to help me. They should give me medicines, instead they gave me only rubbish... All my life ... they've pushed me around ... I’m so afraid it happens again _" Please, please don’t hurt me, I wouldn’t survive._

"I cannot erase what happened, and I don’t ask you to trust me. I ask you to walk a little ways with me. We'll see how it goes, day by day”  Andrew knew he was lying, but he had not been able to think of anything better to reassure Thomas, not to make him run away. Andrew _wanted_ desperately Thomas to trust him,  _he wanted to_  spend the rest of his life with him, give him the good morning every day because it would be the morning of a good day if he had spent it with him. He could no longer think of a life without Thomas. The pain and fear and anxiety he had felt in those days of waiting had erased any doubt about it.

"Alright, day by day. We'll see how it goes together" Thomas began to relax while Andrew stroking his back.  _Thomas please, please, don’t go away._   _I couldn’t stand it a second time._   _All that grudge, and your hopeless eyes and all those days near to you but without you..._

They kissed, at first softly and then with desire. Thomas gave him a smooth,  sensual look,  lips swollen and reddened by the kisses and bites that Andy seemed to like so much "Let’s go to bed"

"How about something different?" Andrew got up and dragged Thomas with him. Tired of all those words, he grabbed him by the buttocks and pulled him hard on his groin, and then rubbed against him, desperately. "I missed you so much..." He pulled his shirt and kissed and bite everywhere, shoulders,  neck and then down deeper. Eventually he knelt in front of him, sliding the  pajama at his sides. Then he hit the wall with a fist, trying to stifle a groan of frustration.

"Andrew, what’s the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing, I lost my balance"  _Keep calm, keep calm._   _Be gentle._   _It’s the only way, be gentle._  "Don’t worry, relax, you're here with me." _You're here with me, damn! I'm licking you everywhere, why don’t you get excited?_   _Why don’t you want me?_   "Leave it to me, luv." Thomas nodded. Andrew began to kiss him between his thighs, on his cock still soft, somewhat tender. He was so mad about Thomas that even this act excited him. 

Andrew laid his hands on the crotch and gently rubbed the tip of the penis with his thumbs, trying to scroll the skin down, dislodging the most delicate and sensitive part and  taking it gently between his lips. He flowed the tongue around the tip of the glans in small circles, then swallowed the cock completely. Thomas was overwhelmed, the warmth of the mouth around his sex made him mad, he trembled and moaned passing his hands through soft hair "Andrew, Andrew, darling" All of a sudden hold it all in his mouth was difficult, then impossible. Andrew made a groan of animalistic satisfaction. Thomas moaned even louder. Andrew rose quickly covering his mouth "Schhhhh, too loud! Be quiet luv" he had feverish eyes, "It's beautiful ... no, you are beautiful! You drive me mad!" Thomas whispered in his ear "Do you want to fuck me?"

Andrew looked unsettled for a moment, then said "There are things, things I like, that we could do together..." And smiled.

Thomas was trying to keep balance, his legs shaking, hands pressed firmly on the edge of the dresser. Andrew, leaning on his back, was moving against him, slipping his cock between his thighs, testicles, along the furrow between the buttocks, rubbing Thomas’s sex with one hand at the rhythm of his thrusts and exploring with the other his strong and sensual body, completely lost in desire. The world began and ended in the man between his arms.

Thomas was to the edge of consciousness too, surrounded by the warmth of the other body, clouded by pleasure. Suddenly his gaze, in the semi-darkness of the room, met a couple of cold blue eyes and he felt frozen. Again his face from the mirror.  _What are you doing? Andy is too young and you are a fool,  pathetic poof..._

Andrew felt him stiffen "Something wrong? Do I hurt you?" Then he leaned the chin on his shoulder and looked at Thomas’s face in the mirror.

"You're so beautiful... It’s to celebrate gods like you that men began to carve, to paint, to compose poems..."

With a slow and sensual caress he slid his hand from the stomach up to the shoulder and the neck and then gently exerted a little pressure. Thomas let himself go, leaning back against Andrew who immediately covered Thomas’s mouth with his, hot and hungry and greedy. They were together, everything was fine, there was no need to worry...

"Thomas?" They were in the bed now. Thomas didn’t remember how it was happened. He yawned, "Honey, you have to go in your room. If you go now you can sleep at least an hour..." Andrew smiled, lazy and satisfied like a cat.

"Alright luv, see you at breakfast" Thomas looked at his companion with puppy eyes, caressing his head slowly. He felt faint, soft, somehow happy.

"Thomas ... In front of the others I cannot do anything, you know, do you? I'll have to behave as always"

"Of course. I don’t know how we could do otherwise..."

"Yes, but remember. Whenever I tell Mr. Barrow, every time I answer politely, every time I go on the opposite side, whenever I am kind to Daisy or Anna or the rest of the world” He was looking straight in his eyes "Whatever I do, I want to be with you, hug you and possibly to be left alone by everyone else as I do so"

“You are a funny chap, do you know it?” Thomas kissed him tenderly and then went out, quietly and cautiously.

In his room,  the smell of Andrew on his skin, warm under the blanket, Thomas slipped into a brief but peaceful sleep, without dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

They had a wonderful summer. A warm wind blew away even the idea of the clouds, and after all that rain the landscape looked like emerald, grass and trees flourishing. Thomas and Andrew met in the yard, after dinner, to smoke, in the soft light of the sunset instead of the evening shadows. Sitting on the bench near the door or standing, with their elbows on the fence, they looked at the wide expanse of green in front of them, often without saying a word. Those moments of intimacy had become precious, vital for both of them.

Sometimes Molesley, stumbling and mumbling, joined them and the silence, until then pleasant and relaxing, became awkward.

Andrew was usually the first to try to start a conversation.

"There are many sheep here"

"There's also a lot of grass ... I guess it's for that" Thomas responses were always very detailed.

Andy smirked "Do you like sheep, Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas sighed "They are quiet animals, I've heard. But I prefer keep distance, at least one mile. In the kitchen instead I prefer lambs"

Molesley was trying to do his part "It seems that english Sheepdogs are the best in the world"

Andrew at that point was exasperated, while Thomas could go on for hours "Border collie, yes.  Smart dogs. But Lord Grantham prefers Labradors ... "

Luckily Molesley was wearied soon by the sheep as by the pruning of trees or the restructuration of the church of Ripon or the merits of the cultivation of ornamental cabbage, and returned inside.

Andrew looked at him going away with an expression somewhere between amused and angry. Sometimes more angry than amused, as that evening."They send him to control what we do out here ...".

"No. They send him to control what I do out here" Thomas said in a bitter tone. "They think I can take advantage of the situation, using my position to force you to please my deviant and perverse nature."

"Do you mind?"

"What? Force you to please my deviant and perverse nature? "

Andrew rolled his eyes "Certainly not! Do you mind they think you can take advantage of your position? "

Thomas grinned, then became more serious "Yes. I'm sorry, but I cannot help it. This is why I don’t want they know about you. I want they judge you for yourself, without prejudice, without labels. What other people think about you eventually changes you. The biggest regret I have is that sometimes I acted like they expected me to do, not like I wanted. I was so angry! I thought if they could not see anything but a foul, then I would be so. I don’t want it to happen to you. "

"I don’t see how you can defend me. I am who I am and I don’t want to hide or feign it. When they will notice, if they have not already done so, I'll worry. "

Thomas threw the fag on the ground, stepping on it with the tip of the shoe "Let's go back inside. I don’t want they come looking for you, lost sheep! "

Andrew looked around and, sure there was no one, bent forward and whispered, "I was wondering if you’d like to be my big bad wolf this night…"

Thomas felt a pleasant shiver down his spine "Why not? Tomorrow will be a quiet day..." He moved his hands forward, fingers like claws, growling and showing his beautiful teeth. Andrew laughed, but his knees turned to jelly, and he felt a soft warmth inside.

 

~~~~

 

In November Anna was finally exonerated because the real killer, another victim of Green, incredibly similar to her, petite and blonde, eventually confessed, urged by remorse.

All of them were in seventh heaven, downstairs and upstairs. Thomas was happy for Anna, but continued to find John unbearable.

One afternoon he entered the servant’s hall. Phyllis was sitting next to Anna by the fireplace, chatting animatedly. She called him immediately and Anna, radiant, gave him the news. Thomas, without thinking, knelt beside her, one hand on the arm of the chair.

"A kid! What a beautiful thing! When is the baby due?" He was really glad, so glad that he don’t even bother to hide it. A baby downstairs. A baby of them.

Anna stroked her dress "In late March I think"

Thomas toke  a cigarette, but then put it back "You should stop working Anna"

"Don’t start with this you too.  I will not lift anything heavy and Mrs. Baxter will take care of Lady Mary in the evening, so I will be able to go home earlier. I promise I’ll be a good girl"

"I hope the child will be a girl. I could not stand another John Bates in this house... " The three of them smiled and Phyllis gave him a little tap on the upper arm "Thomas ... "

Mrs Patmore, leaning against the doorway, was waiting to hear the usual "Mr. Barrow for you" but the minutes went by and nothing happened.

With haunted eyes she returned to the kitchen.

"Beryl, what’s the matter? It seems you've seen a ghost!" Mrs. Hughes approached her with a worried expression.

"There is Mr Pout in there, whispering sweet nothings kneeling in front of Anna and Mrs. Baxter, and allowing  to call him  _Thomas"_

Mrs Hughes sighed amused "Beryl..."

"I swear! He seems a knight in shining armor!"

Daisy, who was intent in making the sauce for the roast,  raised her head "Typical of him. The only time we went out together he made me feel like a queen! " And then, with a sigh, she returned to turn the sauce on the stove, leaving the two women astonished.

 

~~~~

The Bates were sitting in front of the fireplace that evening, John in his armchair, trying to read _Great expectations_ unable to concentrate, Anna on the sofa, crocheting a blanket for the child in a pale yellow color.

At one point, the man put the book down and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes, "What did Thomas want this afternoon?"

Anna put the blanket in the sewing box next to her and let down her hair "He didn’t want anything. I told him about the baby. I was talking to Mrs. Baxter about how to take care of Lady Mary, he came in the servant’s hall and then I told him."

"And what did he answer you?" John stroked the back of the cover with the index.

"Darling, what do you think he answered? Best wishes, pay attention, when the baby comes ... The usual things." Anna thought a moment, then added “He told me his grandmother used to say that children born in spring are stronger than others, because they have in front of them so many sunny months and can stay outdoors. He seemed happy. Really happy. Not like he usually does. He even avoided smoking..." She hesitated a moment, then added "It must be sad not to have the possibility to start a family. "

Her husband nodded  "Yeah, must be a withered life. Nature can be mocking" He stared at the fire crackling cheerful in the fireplace.

" You are mulling something. Do you want to talk about it drinking a cup of tea? "

John, grabbing the invitation, went to the kitchen to fill two cups. "Milk and sugar, thanks"

"Yes milady" Bringing the cups he sat next to her.

"I thought about the affair with Jimmy. How many years have passed? Nearly 5"

"Four and a half.  O'Brien was going to ruin him" Anna thought back to her face contorted with rage, when John had persuaded her to let go. Even then they were drinking tea.

"One night I went out to check the shutters were all closed, and he was out there, in the dark, smoking. He told me that he envied us, the happy couple and everyone so pleased for us. He said he could not imagine what that was like."

"And is this the reason why you helped him?" Anna take a hand in hers.

"To stay with you, to spend my life with you is the only thought that always helped me to overcome every obstacle, in spite of everything and everyone. The fact that he could not even imagine it was so sad. It’s horrible. It's like ... it's like to live without hope. It’s hell" Bates embraced his wife, rocking her tenderly. "But he doesn’t want our pity"

Anna, relaxed between his arms, was falling asleep.  She whispered sleepily "No one wants pity. But a bit of comprehension never hurts. Love never hurts".

 

~~~~

 

 

Life went on quiet, punctuated by the full duties of the house. The days turned into months and the months went by fast.

Mr. Carson and Mrs Hughes were behaving strangely but if they were hiding something Thomas didn’t care.

Lady Mary had a new suitor, a certain Henry Talbot, according to Andrew an arrogant and obnoxious guy, and, strangely, even Lady Edith had a shy suitor, Mr. Pelham, a nice man easily forgettable.

Andrew and Thomas worked, played cards, smoked in the yard and whenever they could they made love.

Andrew sneaked in Thomas’s room in the middle of the night, blocking the door with a chair, undressed quickly and slipped into bed next to the body naked and warm, smelling of soap and nicotine and a scent sweet and delicate and fresh that made a fool of him since the first time he had inhaled it. Surrounded by darkness or sometimes by the moonlight from a gap in the curtains, sex was followed by pampering and the pleasure of lazy chats, in each other's arms.

"Thomas ..." Andrew stroked his neck with the tip of his nose.

Thomas, leaning with his back against Andrew’s chest, was falling asleep "Yes?"

"It's already been two years."

The other smiled "Hmm ... Do you like anniversaries?"

Andrew hit him on the head, "No, you daft! It’s only… I don’t want to stay here for the rest of my life!"

Thomas turned to stare at him. Now he was fully awake. The anxiety had taken the place of weariness "What? Why? "

Andrew sat up and took his hands "Why? Do you need to ask it? Because I want a home with you, and I want not to scream but at least to pant while we fuck.  Because I want to talk without whispering as now and sneaking in your room like a thief. Because I want our room, and our bed big enough to sleep together.  Because I want a life with you! "

Thomas was puzzled "It’s difficult, if not impossible. I tried so many times to leave, and never succeeded".

Andrew  squeezed his hands with even more force "You were alone, but now we are the two of us. Together we can do it." _Together we can do everything._

Thomas sighed "What are you plotting? Because you are plotting something, aren’t you? " In those two years he had known Andrew thoroughly with a few surprises.

The boy was stubborn, with an iron will. He doesn’t always understand the situation on the fly, but once he was convinced that something could work, hardly let go his grip. As with Thomas.

"Then what are you plotting?"

"You know that guy who came here two months ago, along with Pelham? That Mitchell "Thomas made a nod with his head. The "guy" had been abundant reason to quarrel between them.

"He rented the place as he said and wrote to me. He wants us to work for him. It was not just an attempt to get me to bed ... "He looked at him with mock reproach, a raised eyebrow.

"He asked of both of us, Thomas. He puts money, we put experience and contacts. He will give us a salary and a percentage of income. More cash, more money. The name is Skylon ... do you like it? "

Thomas was getting angry. "But did you think about the difficulties? Where will we sleep? What do we know about how to run a bloody restaurant?  What’s its condition? Where is this place ? "

"Near the Criterion" Thomas rolled his eyes.

"No, no. I thought about it, it's perfect. It’s small, 40 seats at most. The Criterion is huge and always full, there is always queue. Those who get tired of waiting could come to us! And it’s  Piccadilly, Thomas! Do you know how many theaters are nearby? No one ever knows where to go to eat after a show! It would be enough to close later and we would do double shifts for dinner! And what’s the meaning of what we know about how to run a restaurant? It’s our work every single day of our lives, Thomas. Setting, clearing, inventories, orders. I'm talking to the genius of double entry! There would be not a big difference. And we would sleep there for a while. There is a room in the back of the restaurant. The formers owners used it as storage for old furniture, but if we throw everything and clean up ... it would be for free! "

"How do you know all these things?" Thomas was on his feet.

"Schhhhhhh speak softly, don’t scream. Do you remember a few weeks ago? When I said I went to London to see my parents? "

"You have already decided everything! You don’t need my opinion! You are already there in your  head!  And what if I don’t want to come? What if I don’t want to lose a steady job? In a few years I could be butler!" Thomas was fidgeting. He was angry and scared too.

"Before telling you about it, I wanted to see if it could be done, if it was something concrete, achievable. That's it. I didn’t want to make you shake for nothing! Thomas! We can do it! No one who spies on us, who  judges us, telling us what to do and what to think! We will be free! Of course we will have to make some sacrifices, to minimize the costs, but we will have a lock on the door! "

"You've had time to think, you've seen the place. How do you want me to make a decision so out of the blue? "

"Sure, sure. It’s all right. Take a bit of time to think. If you want we can go to London together, to see the place " Andrew hugged him but Thomas did not feel at ease.

"Sorry, I’m a bit troubled”

"Do you want I come back to my room?"

Thomas pondered it for a moment "No, no. Stay here. You know how I am. If you left now I would not do anything but bring me down…"

Andrew laid on the bed tightening him in a warm embrace. He leaned his cheek against the dark hair smooth and soft. "I brought the lease, the map of the restaurant, a list of expenses to deal to restructure the hall and replace the kitchen. Do you know a chef? "

"Yup"

"For real?"

"Yes, sleep now. I’ll see your papers tomorrow"

"Yes luv. Sweet dreams "

But Thomas couldn’t sleep. He was no longer even angry. The sadness was taking the place of everything.  _What happens if I don’t go ?_   _He will go anyway._   _He wants to leave me._

Certainly those two years together had not been so easy. Always surrounded by the others they spent most of the day not only without touching, but even talking. He knew he had a character unbearable suspicious, irritable, arrogant, always ready to respond with caustic jokes that made Andrew blush to the tips of the ears, although they were not addressed to him and caused no little discussions between them while smoking outside in the yard.

And then there were the moments of deep sadness, days when he spoke barely, almost not touching food and smoked staring into space in front of him, or dealt with one of those bloody clocks.

When it happened, he realized Andrew was in despair, not knowing how to achieve it, without understanding what ghosts he was fighting against. Yet he waited patiently that Thomas came back to him. And he was infinitely grateful for it.

There had been some changes. Thomas allowed his heart to trust, to trust that tender and kind and present love and started to smile more. He watched Carson, he watched Mrs Patmore and realized that their words had lost importance, that their approval, however unattainable, was not important anymore. Who really interested him was Andy and he was saying that he wanted to go away. Away from Downton. And away from him.

Thomas, all that time, had thought Andrew loved him, that he would stay with him forever. But the boy had told him from the beginning, let’s walk a little ways together, let's see how it goes day by day.

He had no right to ask for more. He never made promises to Andy. He never said what he felt.

"Andrew?"

"Yes luv?"

"Are you asleep?"

"If you talk to me it is a bit difficult ... But no, I don’t sleep. What’s wrong? "

"If I decide not to come to London, if I want to stay here, what will you do? You'll go anyway? "

Andrew looked at him as if he had spoken in another language "Go anyway? In London, alone? Are you crazy? I do all this to be together, and then I go alone? Obviously if you do not want to come we’ll stay here. It means that we will think of something different! " He said the last words as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Andrew!" Thomas hugged him so tight that the other felt suffocated. Andrew had not thought of leaving, even for a moment. The awareness of it made him dizzy. Andrew was his companion and whatever was coming they would face it together. "I'll come with you. I'll come with you. I would follow you until the edge of the world!"

Andrew tried to slightly loosen the grip, without too much effort "Thomas, first let me breathe, second it’s only London and third… I love you too."

 


	8. Chapter 8

Thomas reviewed the documents brought by Andrew the day after and the next and the day after the next. He read and reread all the documentation, went three times in London to see the surroundings and seek advice from Mr. Murray and when the lawyer suggested, for a little extra, to investigate Mitchell, Thomas accepted enthusiastically.

"Don’t you think you're exaggerating?  Scotland Yard wouldn’t do all this investigations" Andrew was sitting on the edge of the bed,  smoking one of Thomas’s cigarettes.

"I know, honey," the other, sitting on the chair, elbows on the small table in front of the dresser, was playing nervously with his lighter. "I've had some bad experiences. And I do not want it to happen again."

Andrew went close and put an arm around his shoulders, kissing him affectionately on the head. "I thought you were more reckless ..."

Thomas, raising his head, looked at him earnestly "I could be reckless if I was by myself, but I do not want to take risks now that we are together, or at least I want to avoid unnecessary risks"

 “You don’t have to protect me, I'm not a child"

"I cannot hold your hand while we walk, I cannot embrace you in public, I cannot even invite you to dance, let me at least take care of you ..." He huged Andy and made him sit on his lap. "No! Let me! I'm too big ..." Andrew complained but didn’t get up, leaning instead to kiss his neck and follow the edge of the ear with the tip of his tongue. "So are you ready now? Let's go? "

"Yup. Let's go. "

~~~~

When they resigned, giving one month’s notice, a chill permeated the small community  downstairs. Carson took it as a personal affront: a footman and an under butler that left  at the same time, causing a falling  in work efficiency, was an incredibly serious matter.

The old owl had banned any comment on the matter, and Thomas for once was grateful, and during meals in the servants hall  there was talk of this and that, between glances and whispers.

It was time for goodbyes. Some were cold pleasantries, as expected. Others left Thomas speechless.

One afternoon he was serving tea to Lady Edith and Lady Grantham when Mr. Carson came to inform milady that there was a phone call from the Sketch. 

Thomas was alone in the living room with Lady Grantham.

"Barrow"

"More tea milady?"

"No thanks. Carson told us of your resignation." Lady Grantham looked at him with her sweet blue eyes and a gentle smile.

"Indeed milady. This is the last week"

"How many years have you been with us? Fourteen? "

"Fifteen milady, although I shouldn’t count the years to the Front…"

"You protected my Sybil when you both worked at the hospital in the village and helped her to make Downton Abbey  a convalescent home. You protected her child when no one was aware of what was happening with that terrible Nanny West and you saved my Edith from a horrible death. We'll miss you,  Barrow. Thanks for everything"

She was there, sitting with a saucer in one hand and a cup in the other, the napkin in her lap, her head slightly tilted to one side, the embodiment of elegance and delicacy in the soft light of the autumn afternoon. The perfect farewell. "Thanks milady. One is glad to be of service. I’ll miss Downton too” It was not true, but at that time it could have been.

A moment later, Lady Edith was back in the living room, Molesley came to help with the trays and the spell was broken, but Thomas kept the impression that that afternoon the house itself had said goodbye.

Andrew promised Daisy and Mrs Baxter to write as soon as he get settled and Anna hugged both when they went to say goodbye at the cottage, with considerable difficulty considering she was at  the seventh month of pregnancy, while the little John was playing among them with a wooden train. Thomas stumbled several times against it laughing "He's his father's double, isn't he...".

Andrew never told Thomas that Carson, Mrs. Hughes and  Mrs. Patmore tried to convince him that a good guy like him would not have to make a business with someone like Mr. Barrow. Andrew looked at each of them before he left and repeated the same phrase "I'm proud to be his partner".

 

~~~~

 

The first few days were very difficult. Thomas had an obsessive need to keep everything under control, and this was practically impossible in the middle of a construction site. The list of things to do was never ending, and  Andrew sleeping by his parents and crossing every morning half of London to get to Piccadilly made everything even more complicated, while Thomas slept in a boarding house nearby.

 If at Downton they spoke little, in London they didn’t speake at all. When finally the back room was cleaned, they signed the lease, formed the company along with Mitchell, and the workers began work, Thomas relaxed a bit.

"We have to open in three weeks" He was checking the wall coverings.

"Sure"

"If it goes wrong from the start we don’t recover anymore" He examined the taps in the kitchen.

"Sure"

"I engage with suppliers, it would be a disaster if we fail to cover the cost of the goods" He tried the switches.

"I agree" Andrew, answering him, began to close doors and windows.

"You are not listening"

Thomas had entered their room, lit up only by a lamp leaning against a desk, and Andrew closed the door behind them.

"No, I'm not listening" He hugged him and took his face in his hands kissing him on the lips, but also on cheeks and eyes and forehead.

"I can’t believe we're here. I thought we would have been at Downton forever, that you would  never found the guts to come away with me "

Thomas looked to the ground. "I'm sorry"

"Schhh, don't apologize. Don’t apologize to me, ever. There's no need.”  He started to undress Thomas.

"You know how it feels, a prison may seem like a safe haven, it all depends on how we look at things"

Andrew drove him to the bed. Thomas looked puzzled. "Do you think no one will make questions? Neither Mitchell?"

"Just keep the door closed. And if we have to let someone in,  we can hide one of the cots behind the wardrobe ... Officially Mitchell knows I sleep at my parents home, and you sacrifice yourself to sleep here to keep everything under control." He disheveled Thomas’s beautiful hair laughing.

His companion sighed looking at the cots. They seemed not really comfortable. "My poor back ..."

"It will not be easy. But I swear it's worth it. We will make sure that it is worth it. And as soon it will be possible  we’ll take an apartment with a real room and a real bed. And then these are not so bad. At least there's enough room for both of us. "

Andrew pushed him down and began to stroke and kiss him with languorous and wet kisses. Thomas moaned softly and was already half hard. Andrew was immensely pleased, because as time went on at least his body had learned to trust him.

"Let me hear your voice, here you can shout luv. We are alone, no one can hear us. Please. I missed you so much"

"Andrew, honey, come here, closer" Thomas began to rub against him, grabbing both excited sexes with one hand while the other caressed the hip of his companion, sensually inviting him to move following his rhythm. Andrew answered his attentions with less and less muffled groans and increasingly shameless. At one point he blocked Thomas grabbing his wrist and looked straight in his eyes.

"Thomas, fuck me, please!"

"What?" Thomas moved away, an involuntary reaction. He was genuinely puzzled.

"Please. Came on. I want you so much..."

"But in all this time, you never wanted. I thought... "

"The hell I wanted! With Molesley sleeping  in a room and Carson in the other! I could  _hear_   them  _snoring._ It  would be impossible that way ... but now, here, alone ... Come on. Fuck me. I want to become one with you. Please!"

Thomas was not able to think coherently, but he didn’t need. Following  the instinct was the best thing. "All right, that's great. Relax. I got you. I take care of you "

Andrew let go completely, languid, abandoned in the arms of his companion. Thomas’s long, slender fingers caressed, prepared, brought over the limit. Andrew allowed Thomas to browse, open, penetrate him, quivering under his caresses. When Thomas felt him ready, pliable and soft, slipped Andrew gently forward, against his sex, and started to push. Andrew was shaking like a leaf, holding his breath. Thomas whispered tenderly, "If you're afraid we can stop" But Andrew strongly pulled towards him. "It is not fear. It’s desire".

Thomas began to move, but Andrew was so tight, he was afraid of hurting him, he felt blocked.

"Please Thomas, please, I am not made of glass, don’t worry. Take me" Andrew was trying to help him in every way, but he felt he was losing touch.

"Andrew, I don’t feel like I can ..."

"Damn it! You don’t want me even so? I thought that once we were alone, once out of there, if I could ... if I ... But it's useless. Useless! "

"What are you talking about? What’s the matter? "

"You know" Andrew curled up on himself, strongly rejecting any attempt of Thomas to hug him.

"Honey, what's wrong? We made love so many times in the past two years"

Andrew turned toward him shooting. "No Thomas, no. I had sex with you, I came to you, I have always tried! I make you excited, I make you come! You are just very kind, so gentle that it seems almost you love me!"

"Andrew! You mean the world to me! How can you even think such a thing, after I followed you here! "

"You're right, I expressed myself badly. Maybe you love me a little, but never like you love him."

Thomas was exasperated "Bloody who?"

"Jimmy ..."

"Jimmy? Bloody Jimmy Kent? But who cares about Mr. Kent! I haven’t seen him in ages!"

"Of course you haven’t seen him, but certainly not because you didn’t want to! You searched him immediately, as soon as we arrived. I saw the telegrams came back. And I asked the operator a list of  the calls done from our telephone. No time to put the phone  line, and you called him immediately! "

Thomas got up and walked nervously up and down. He went to the jacket and took a cigarette: after four attempts  eventually he managed to turn it on. He sucked so hard that he felt his lungs burn.

"Andrew ... I was afraid that something happened to him ... It was a long time I had no news nor letters. "

"I know it! I always know when you get his damned letters! You become dull, you turn in on yourself, do not touch food. I know when you get his damned letters ..."

"Andrew ..."

"Ah Thomas! I know you don’t love me like you love him. Your body took months to react to my touch, to my presence"

"But I have never done anything with him, I swear. "

"In the end it might be better. Now I should not fight a ghost"

"Andrew ... Come here, please: Please!" He threw away his cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed, stretching his arms to his companion, "Come here, luv, come to me"

Andrew curled up against him, his head resting on his chest.

Thomas hesitantly embraced him, stroking his hair. "Your skin smells so good, so sweet. You taste as gingerbread " Andrew grinned.

"Sorry darling. I dunno  why but I take for granted all the love you give me. You're the most important person in my life, and I cannot even make you understand it ... "

Andrew was panting before, but now his breath was more regular "I ’m sorry. I’m so nervous… the restaurant, the interviews to find the footmen and then to stand by my parents ..."

"You didn’t say anything. How was it?"

"They were awful, as usual. They told me I’m crazy to leave a secure place for this ... " He indicated the room and the two of them "And then they wanted money again, but I don’t want to give it anymore ... I'm just tired"

Thomas held him tight "Now you never have to come back to them. You'll be here with me. You will see. We will find a way to make everything work"

"It doesn’t matter, I'm used to it. I told you, I always had everything second-hand...  _" But I hoped so much that this time would be different._

“Andrew…”

“Yes Thomas, I love you too.”


	9. Chapter 9

"Andrew!" Thomas was beyond the edge now, he couldn’t say anything than Andrew’s name, desperately clinging to his shoulders. The feeling of pleasure pervaded every inch of his skin. Andrew was moving slowly, stimulating his most sensitive spot, making him tremble and quiver,  the motion creating a delicious friction of his stomach against Thomas’s sex.

"Andrew!" He took his face in the hands and looked at him with liquid, lost, adoring eyes.

"Yes, luv! I’m here. It's all right" Andrew huged him even closer if possible, and continued to rock against his body with thrusts increasingly resolute and intense.

Thomas arched is back, mouth wide open. The orgasm was intense. Andrew slipped out gently, his companion  clutching his chest, the head on his arm "You?"

"Stay with me, look at me with those beautiful eyes of yours." Andrew was touching himself between the legs with increasingly rapid movements and when Thomas began to stroke his hip he came, sighing, the face hidden between his lover’s neck and shoulder. They stood for a moment, then Andrew felt Thomas’s embrace loose up a bit and his body slide slightly to one side. He was falling asleep. Andrew waited until his lover slipped completely into sleep, then got up and went to the bathroom. After cleaning himself somehow, went back in the room and sat on the edge of the bed, gently passing a damp towel over Thomas’s body and between legs, being careful not to wake him. Judging by the golden and pasty light filtering through the heavy curtains it was noon. 

Andrew slumped in the armchair by the window and lit a cigarette. He still liked to smoke his cigars but when he was so tired, as now, preferred to take one of Thomas’s cigarettes, inhale  two or three puffs and crush it almost immediately in the ashtray.  _Maybe it's a way to feel Thomas again._

He stretched his legs on the chair in front of him, listening to the noises that came, muffled, from the road. Few cars, the bicycle bells, the cries of people, the barking of a dog, the flower girl trying to sell violets, the paper boy shouting the news.

Thomas awoke when the grandfather clock in the living room strucked one and a half.  It was one of the first things they bought to furnish their home. The clock and the bed.

"I'm sorry. I fell asleep" he sat up, running his hands over his face and through his hair and yawning.

"Thomas, I'm leaving in a week" Andrew spoke without looking at Thomas, staring in front of him.

"But how... Where?" Thomas thought he had misheard.  _Maybe I have not yet woken up. And this is just a bad dream._

"I go with Mitchell and his wife in France: Deauville, Orleans and Paris. I told you. He asked me to accompany him. He wants my opinion about some investments there" Andrew tried to maintain a neutral tone.

"Yes, but you also told me you didn’t want to go!" Thomas had raised his voice more than he wanted.

"I told you it didn’t seem appropriate, but now I changed my mind" He could not look at him. If he did so he would no longer have the strength to go on.

"There is also .. what's his name?"

"Graves, Henry Graves. Yes, there is. "

"Ah!"  _It's not like being married or something, I can’t claim marital fidelity…_  "When do you come back?" The hands resting on his knees, he tryed to keep his back straight.

"Dunno. I'll call you _Tell_ _me not to go, tell me not to go, tell me not to go!_

"I see. Call me, please. Have fun"

"Sure. I'll do."

 

~~~~

 

 

The beginning was not easy. After paying rent, suppliers and the salaries of the staff, there remained little. Andrew gave out leaflets, there was an opening, but not many knew the small restaurant. The Skylon remained a place for middle-class families who wanted to have lunch out on Sunday, not just what Andrew had hoped.

Thomas really knew a chef, a red-haired  guy tall and ugly,  incredibly skilled and punctilious but humorless.  "He is a good pal, Andrew. And he likes what he does. It'll be fine."

For nearly a year they got on, working like slaves and sleeping in the back room. Thomas unexpectedly found himself comfortable. Unlike Downton, here no one saw him as an arrogant,  petty thief  but as a man careful, reliable and friendly, just a little too composed. The staff relied on him, suppliers respected him for his punctuality and accuracy, and customers were fascinated by his way of doing so elegant and refined. Without realizing it, Thomas changed: he smiled more and was less wary.

Andrew, on the contrary, had become nervous and irritable. He wanted the restaurant getting better, instead they struggled to pay all accounts and it was an agony. He hoped for more, even though he tried not to show it in front of Thomas.

It was closing time, the guys were clearing the tables, when suddenly the door opened. 

Some people entered laughing and joking.Thomas immediately recognized Lady Rose with her rich and blond husband, accompanied by Lady Mary and a smart Henry Talbot. Thomas received them professionally.

Lady Rose made a nice gesture with his hand, smiling "Oh Barrow, Edith told us you were here ... We need a huge favor, we reserved a table at the Criterion for six but…" She made another vague gesture pointing behind her "Some friends have joined us at the last moment and there was no place for them. We were wondering if... "

Thomas bowed slightly "Of course milady. How many guests?"

Mr. Aldridge stepped forward  "Twelve, exactly. The others come immediately"

Thomas showed them a table "Nicholas and Peter will take care of you. I hope everything is to your satisfaction"

With deliberate slowness he turned away. Andrew was in the kitchen, squirming. Even Alfred was looking out the door  to see the newcomers. "Is that Lady Mary?"

"Yes. The old broom came to visit"

"If Mr. Carson could hear you!" But he was laughing.

Suddenly the door opened. It was Nicholas. Upset. He threw himself on a chair fanning with a towel.

"Mr. Parker, Mr. Barrow you'll never believe it!"

Thomas took him by the shoulders, "What’s the matter? What happens? Some problem? "

"Yes. No. I don’t know. The other guests, they arrived... " Nick turned toward the door.

"So who's there? Greta Garbo?" Thomas was growing impatient. A moment yet and he would have slapped him.

"Almost! There is Noel Coward, Noel Coward! With Igor Novello and ... and ... Louise Brooks! "

Andrew jumped up "You're kidding, aren’t you?" He had heart palpitations.

Nick took a sip of water that someone mercifully offered before answering "Of course no! I swear to God!  I could never joke on such a thing!"

Andrew exclaimed elated "We're rich!" and begin to prepare cocktails for the ladies.

The next instant Peter entered screaming hysterically "They want oysters and champagne!"

All of them looked each other horrified "We are ruined!" A chilly feeling permeated the kitchen.

The guys were locked, didn’t know what to do. Thomas looked at Andy with an unreadable expression, then grabbed the tray beside him.

"Andrew, finish those cocktails. Peter serve them to the ladies. Nicholas take the flutes"

Andrew looked dazed "What are you doing? We only have two bottles of champagne and beyond NO oysters. Two bottles of champagne! There are Henry Talbot and Igor Novello, not the Archbishop of Canterbury! "

Then Thomas turned to the chef, who was silent, his face contract "Alfred! Damn! We need your help!”

"Mr Barrow, I cannot..." The chef took a towel and began to twist it hard.

"Alfred,  if we sink,  you come down with us, but if it all goes well, it’s convenient for you too. Come on!"

The chef was anxious, the edges of the ears a purple red . "It 's a steal..."

"No, technically it is a loan. Tomorrow we will give back all. No one will see anything ... it’s past half eleven Alfred! "

The chef thought for a moment, then grabbed the phone "Operator? I would like to talk to the RITZ, David Grey"

Twenty-five minutes later oysters were served and Andrew popped open the third of the half-dozen bottles of champagne of the evening.

It was nearly four and Neil Coward, tipsy, was playing at the piano “A room with a view” mistaking half of the tones, when they finally decided to call it a night.

Thomas saw them out helping the ladies with their coats. A lovely girl with wide, wet eyes and bombed dark hair, very drunk, looked at him mischievous "Bye handsome, see youuuuuuuu!"

Thomas performed a slight bow with a shadow of a hand kissing. Andrew rolled his eyes, and he was not the only one. Lady Mary, next to them, looked at Thomas  with a mocking smile.

"Goodnight milady"  _Laugh, Laugh._   _You have no idea how much I laughed with Philip ..._

The day after Lady Rose sent a thank-you note, and the whole city, thanks to the tabloids, knew that the Skylon existed and was attended by stars like Louise Brooks and Igor Novello.

Within six months, the life of Thomas and Andrew changed completely: they rented an apartment a few blocks from the restaurant with enough rooms not to generate suspicion, the back room  was used as private dinning room for special guests, Andrew had a wardrobe that would receive the approval of The Evening Post and Thomas could wind his grandfather clock in their living room. They slept embraced every night in a real bed and Downton was distant.

Then, one evening, Jimmy arrived.

Thomas was taking some bottles of wine in the store when one of the boys called, saying that someone was asking for him at the entrance. He immediately tried to find out who the stranger was but the man, accompanied by a charming  blonde, didn’t say his name. He had presented himself as a friend since Downton.  Thomas felt as the heart wanted to explode. It was beating so hard to resound in his ears.

Jimmy was standing by the door, smiling and beautiful, and it seemed time wasn’t passed, but they were greeted only the day before.

"Jimmy Kent..." The other grabbed his hand "Thomas Barrow! How long!"

" I might not be able to tell looking at you" _You are always my golden boy_...

"This is my fiancée, Miss Eleonore Sewidge" Thomas looked at the girl: beautiful, flashy, very rich, very American and very bored. "Pleased to meet you"

Eleonore watched at them annoyed. Jimmy added "I was wondering if there was a table for the two of us ..."

"Of course, you are my guests. This is the last I can do.  Peter, a reserved table, for Mr. Kent"

Andy was serving a table not far from them, and realized immediately that his worst nightmare was carrying out.  Thomas’s smile, his expression, and the man near him with soft blond hair, with golden skin. 

The workout due to years of service prevented him to overthrow the whole tray on the floor, but at that moment Andy would have been able to describe in detail where his heart was and which part was broken.


	10. Chapter 10

Jimmy came back often, along with his bored fiancée and other friends. He didn’t stand the pleasure to sit on the Skylon whenever he felt like it, while anyone else would have to reserve a table two weeks before. He called the waiters by name and sometimes went into the kitchen to greet Alfred and taste something. Since he chatted distracting the sous chef and the rest of the  staff, Andrew went after him, firmly inviting to go out every time.

"Mr Kent please, you cannot stay here. Staff only" He stood behind looking down. _You are so short…_

"Yes, you're right, but call me Jimmy. Alfred! What’s this stuff? It's delicious!" He was soaking a celery stalk in a bowl.

Alfred lightened "Do you like it? It’s a mousse au roquefort! "

The celery left in the air "What?"

The cook looked at him angrily "Cheese!"

Andrew now was literally pushing him out "Mr. Kent. Please!"

"I go out, I go out. Here I am. I'm going out. I came out. Bye Alfred! " He was already out the door when he turned abruptly toward Andrew, blowing through his face "And call me Jimmy. Thank you"

_And you stay away from my kitchen, from my life and especially from Thomas._

Andrew knew he wouldn’t  be worried of Jimmy. When Thomas presented them he shaked his hand frankly, showing to understand the situation and being happy for them. Also his attentions to Miss Sedwige were unmistakable. But all of this, far from reassure, made him mad as hell and every time he felt the sudden urge to kick Jimmy in the ass.

It would be better to talk to Thomas about it, but he couldn’t. He was afraid. He was afraid that if he had forced Thomas to choose, he would not have chosen him.

 

~~~~

 

"May I come in?" Alfred knocked and simultaneously opened the door. An old habit.

"Chef, take a seat. Some problem?" Andrew raised his curly head from the register of invoices.

"Is Thomas here?" The man seemed a bit on edge. He looked around the small office, with the walls all covered with shelves full of folders, except for the space of the door and the window.

"No chef, Thomas is not here..." A sigh "He went out with Mr. Kent..."

Alfred made a puzzled expression "With Jimmy?"

"Yes, with Jimmy Kent" Andrew began to record invoices, lowering his head, thinking the conversation was over there. But Alfred didn’t seem to agree.

"Indeed I would like to talk with you..."

Andrew motioned him to sit down again and Alfred sat heavily on the small chair in front of the desk, even smaller under him.

"Then Chef, how can I help you? Something wrong with the orders? "

"No, no. Everything’s perfect"

"Any problem with the staff in the kitchen?"

"Nope. The guys are great!"

Alfred watched his hands, without a word.

"Chef, I'm starting to get worried" Andy was leaning on the desk, crossing his long, thin fingers.

 Alfred cleared his throat "I don't see a lot of love lost between you and Jimmy...." The die was cast. Now Andrew had decide whether to be honest or not.

"I don’t like Mr Kent, no. I'm sorry, I know you two are friends "

"Actually, I wouldn’t say that" Alfred toke a pencil and played with it nervously "We worked together, but I wouldn’t call us friends"

Andrew looked at him astonished "But he always comes to say hello and chats and ... and ... and behaves like ..."

"Oh Jimmy always does so. It's his good and bad point"

"Yeah, I  begin to understand"

Alfred squeezed strongly the edges of the apron, knuckles almost white.

"When I was in Downton I liked a girl, she worked in the kitchen."

"Daisy?"

"No, Ivy. She gone before you came. I ... I mean I liked her very, very much. I wanted to marry her. I proposed to her" The man tried to breathe deeply. The memory still made him feel bad. "She was so beautiful, and sweet. Adorable "

"Why are you telling me all this, chef?" Andrew was growing impatient. He did not want to become the sentimental counselor of Alfred Nugent.

"Jimmy invited her to go out, a couple of times. He did not care anything about Ivy. He just wanted to take her to bed. And to bother me. I asked him also to leave her alone, because, in short, my feelings toward her were very serious here. "

"But he obviously didn't do it"

"No, he didn’t. He is an asshole. But it doesn’t matter. What I meant is that even after, even when Ivy and Jimmy had a fight and she no longer wanted to see him ... things between us didn’t change. I thought that she could not love me because of Jimmy. But she just didn’t love me. "

Andrew stood motionless, his lips tightened. "I don’t understand"

"I just say the problem wasn’t Jimmy" He tidied up the pencil "Now I have to go. The duck doesn’t  prepare itself alone"

"Yes." Andrew remained silent but when the guy was out called him "Chef! Thank You. I ... I will consider what you told me."

Alfred smoothed his white blouse, a hint of a smile on his face "Yes. I'm sure"

 

_~~~~_

"Then, a pint or something stronger?" Jimmy was speaking walking backwards to the counter pub.  "A pint is fine. Thanks"  They chose a quiet corner near the window. From there Thomas could see the Thames. Jimmy came back with two pints and sat down next to Thomas.

"We finally have a bit of time to chat!" As usual he drank in a long gulp, unlike Thomas who sipped slowly.

"I'm sorry, at the restaurant I never have much time. There are always so many things to do"

"Yeah. Nice change from Downton eh? "

"Yup. A nice change. But I could say the same about you. What happened?" Jimmy smiled, looked out for a while, then took another long gulp of beer.

"Well, I wrote that when I walked away from Downton I found work at Palmer house. Sometimes I met Katherine"

"Katherine?"

"Yes...  Lady Anstruther" Jimmy stared a few patches on the table. "She introduced me to some friends, and so I met Vic and I was with her for a while and then there was some other story, meaningless, and then I met Melanie and ... we got married"

"Married?" Thomas was wishing he had ordered something stronger.

"Yup. We got married and went around for a while. Melanie is ... well ... they were all very rich ..." Jimmy accompanied the last words with a vague gesture of the hand and a nervous smile.

"However, things were going well. Melanie is a nice woman and generous ... and ... so I was fine with her. Then she wanted to go home, in Philadelphia ... and, when his father saw me, wrote out a check and gave me marching orders"

"Oh Jimmy! I'm sorry... " Thomas looked at him in astonishment.

"Well I am not. The journey from Liverpool to New York was a nightmare. We had never spent so much time together sober. The worst week of my life!" Jimmy stopped one of the waitresses and ordered two more beers. "I was there for a little and then I decided to go home"

Thomas nodded seriously and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply before speaking "The Black Friday. Branson came back from Boston too. He could no longer find work "

"Not really. I got in a round of illegal betting, but it became too dangerous and I preferred to have a change of air" Another nervous laugh. "And then, on the return trip, on the Mauritania, I met Eleonore. She was bored ... "

"Yes, I think the girl gets bored easily," Thomas sent down a long swig.

"I regret I didn’t write, but at one point I did not know how and what to explain. Then when I came back I sent a letter to Downton and Mrs. Baxter saw the sender and replied writing where to find you"

"Yup. Phyllis is a kind woman. Well, you said you'd got away and you did... " Thomas tried to remain impassive, but was upset. Even though he had not even finished the second beer, he still felt dizzy. He lit another cigarette directly from the one he had just finished.

"And you, what do you tell me?"

_I was a mess, I wanted to die, or at least I could not figure out how to go on living, Andrew picked me and gave me a home and a life._

"You know, some good opportunity, hard work and a bit of luck."

Jimmy had ordered two more beers "To good opportunities Thomas! " He bumped Thomas’s pint.

"To good deals Jimmy..." Thomas gave him a tap on the shoulder and Jimmy smiled, shaking his arm affectionately. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone anymore, especially to himself. He danced in the moonlight on the deck of a first-class transatlantic hugging beautiful women and drinking champagne. And now he knew it was not possible to escape from his own fears and ghosts even so.

Thomas instead had learned that it was not always necessary to fight and hide, that there was a place for him in the world of the men, and that what he told himself every day in the last twenty five years between a thousand doubts and hesitations was true: he was not foul.

 

~~~~

 

That night, back at home, Thomas mentioned to Andy the conversation with Jimmy as they prepared to go to sleep. "What do you think?"

Andrew looked at him upset "What do I think? The same as you. In life there are no shortcuts and if you want something you have to work hard to get it"

"Really Do I ?"  _I wonder what Carson would say about it..._

Thomas got under the covers. Beside him, Andrew was warm and the soft and silky curls tickled his cheek. He searched for his mouth, the soft lips, the sensual line of the hip. In the dark an image overlapped the other in front of him, other soft lips, hair smoother but equally silky and soft. The kisses became more insistent, more deep, more possessive hands on that stirring body that was Andrew and was not. The back strong and smooth, the sumptuous curve of the neck, the scented skin, velvet under his fingers ...  _You are made_ _of ivory and gold ..._  A whisper, almost a sigh "My golden boy..."

Andrew stiffened, then pushed him away "Leave me!" If he had called him Jimmy it would hurt less.

Thomas toke a few seconds to return to reality "What?"

"I said let me. I don’t want" Andrew was trembling.

"But how? No... I don't understand. Why? "

 _Because I don’t know what you're thinking, that's why._   _Because I don’t know what do you want, who you're embracing!_

"I'm tired. I worked all day and tomorrow I will be busy"

"Andrew tell me what's wrong. Please! "

"Your damn Jimmy Kent is wrong. You know I cannot stand it, you know it makes me crazy the idea of you two together, but you do not care at all. He comes in our restaurant, goes into our kitchen, spends the afternoon with you and when you come back to me you keep thinking about him, and you expect it’s fine, that I shut up and be quiet! You're not so, Thomas. You're not so. Where is the sweet and gentle man who takes care of me? Where is my companion? "

Andrew started to cry. Silent tears, running down his cheeks and reddened eyes. "What should I do Thomas? What do you want me to do? I have to leave? Leave the field open? "

"Andrew, I only went out with a friend ..." Thomas put a hand on his shoulder, but Andrew moved away angrily. "Ah, you went out with a friend. It fits well. Really. Now excuse me but I'm going to sleep in my room "

Since they had rented the apartment, almost nine months before, Andy used the other room to hold his clothes but the bed had never been touched. That night he found that it was comfortable and fall asleep without hugging Thomas was impossible.

A few days after Arthur Mitchell went to greet, bringing with him an American friend, Henry Graves, of Baltimore. Graves was a nice guy, smart, in his thirties, not handsome but certainly charming. He had never seen London and since Mitchell was busy Andrew offered to show him around. After a day spent to see the main attractions Graves, in the bar of his hotel, proposed to Andrew to finish the scotch in his room, but Andy refused politely. Then he slipped into a movie theater and watched three times in a row _Anna Christie_. When he arrived home Thomas was alighting from a cab.  Jimmy was inside and said a kind good night. They entered the house without a word.

A couple of weeks later, Mitchell asked Andrew to come and see some possible investments in France together with him and his wife: a couple of hotels and a tea room. He trusted Andrew’s taste and intuition and also his frankness in expressing opinions, since the first time in Downton, where he had been invited as friend of Bertie Pelham, who a year later married Lady Edith. A knowledge based on trust that over the years had become a solid friendship.

Andrew did not want to go, felt it would be a silly thing to do leave Thomas alone in that moment, but then, thinking back to the last period, spent without saying a word, separate sleeping, eating breakfast entrenched behind a newspaper, he decided it was better to seek a drastic solution.

That morning he entered their room. The sight of Thomas asleep, his hair a mess, was lovely. Andrew needed to tighten his arms around him at least one last time before leaving. The possibility of returning no longer depending on him.


	11. Chapter 11

"Hello Nick. Beautiful evening" Jimmy entered and Nicholas helped him to take off his coat.

"Good evening, Mr. Kent. Give it to me" Nicholas grabbed the garment and passed it to the coatcheck boy.

"Call me Jimmy! Why are you here?" He was arranging his hair and jacket, looking in the large hall mirror.

"Mr. Barrow is in the dinning room, sir"

"And Mr. Parker?"

Nicholas hesitated for a moment, puzzled about what to say. "Outside London on business."

"Ah. For long? "

"I don’t know sir... Mr. Barrow didn’t told me anything about it"

"Well, then I'm going to ask him myself. Bye Nick"

Once in the place Jimmy searched for Thomas. He was next to a table near the glass wall, so similar and yet so different from that Thomas he had met at Downton. Standing, composed, kind, but there was no sign of hypocrisy, of hatred in his eyes. The anger was gone and the quiet expression made him look even younger.

Turning to the kitchen Thomas caught his eyes and brightened. He went to Jimmy quickly.

"Hi. Do you still have a lot to do? "

"Hi" The other looked around thinking about the orders from the tables. "I think almost a hour. By now nobody should get in anymore. "

"Can I wait for you? Do you want  to go to drink something together? "

Thomas thought for a moment "No, I'm too tired to drink. Why don't you sit and wait for me? I'll take you a scotch. If you like we can go for a walk afterwards. Sit wherever you like and wait"

"Yes, that's fine. A walk"

 

~~~~

 

The night air was damp and smelled of rain, machine oil and gas from the streetlights, and dust. Thomas lit two cigarettes and handed one to Jimmy.

"And so Andy is away for work..."

"Yes" He took a drag. A deep one.

"Will he stay away for long?"

"Dunno"

"And where did he go?"

"France..."

"Alone?" "With Mitchell, our partner, and his wife ... I think" Another drag.

"Problems?"

"Yes." They walked up to Golden Square and there Thomas slumped on a bench.

"It's difficult. When you are like us, it's so difficult" He was speaking in a whisper "No one...  no one dares speak out. And you get used to this world of silence and shadows. You always have to hide your feelings in front of others" Thomas ran a hand over his face "I mean, I could never behave with Andrew as you do with Elenoire. In front of others I cannot take his hand, I cannot embrace him, we cannot do anything common to the rest of the world. But you are so accustomed to it that eventually maybe you become too cold. Maybe Andrew needs more tenderness. I am a difficult person. I speak little. I didn’t show enough how ... how I feel. I made him fragile and insecure. I'm not surprised that he has decided to move away. Excuse me. I bother you  talking about these things "

Jimmy placed a hand on his arm, looking through his long lashes "Don’t be daft. I'm not at all bothered by it. Is it so important for you? " His deep voice went straight to Thomas’s  stomach.

He swallowed visibly "I think so"

"Sure?"  

Thomas felt his arm burning under Jimmy’s hand, lost in his beautiful eyes heavy-lidded, face so close to his that would be sufficient to tilt his head a few inches to feel again the taste of those lips never forgotten, for which he now felt an endless nostalgia. For a moment he thought it could be a solution, but eventually got up.

"Let’s go home. We can call it a night. "

"Do you want to go out tomorrow? "

"No, it’s better Monday, it’s closing day. We could go out of town. Would you like to ... a few months ago I took a motorcycle..."

"A motorcycle? But it's great! Monday, all right then! "

"If it doesn’t rain, of course"

"Noooooo. It cannot rain!"

 

Jimmy was excited as a kid. The Triumph was magnificent. "Where did you find it?"

"I bought it from a customer who had to return to America and did not want to take it back. I believe that in fact he was not able to drive it"

"And what about you? Are you able to drive it? Can I trust you?"

Thomas opened his arms smirking. "You have to try. You can always scream if you are afraid! "

He gave him a  large pair of glasses and a brown leather cuff "I have to? My hair ... "

"You must wear the glasses, it’s better. The air and the flies are annoying. The cuff ... I prefer to wear it, but is not required ... "

"Tell me the truth, you bought it only to be able to dress like that!" Thomas's legs were encased in a pair of tight pants tucked into high black boots and he had on a leather jacket tight at the waist. He looked like Ben Lyon in Hell’s Angels, maybe more gorgeous.

"Witty...  You are not bad anyway. Beautiful trench. Did you get it from Branson? "

"What do you mean? I look like the manager of a grange? So rude!" Jimmy stroked his Burberrys with pride and settled back his pants into the boots "I could go around shooting rabbits with Churchills and Cavendishes  without embarrassing myself!"

"Mmm poor rabbits, decimated by vanity!"

The day was fabulous. The air crisp and clean and the sky of an unreal blue.  Thomas loved to drive the Triumph and  had chosen a peaceful path, heading towards Salisbury. Leaving London, always congested, he was completely relaxed. He liked the breeze on his face, and he liked to have Jimmy so close, his hands resting on his back.

They stopped to eat at a pub outside the village. Jimmy wanted to know about the marriage of Carson and Mrs Hughes, the latest news about Daisy and Bates children. John, that winter, was almost dead for diphtheria but in the end luckily was healed, and little Mary was starting to walk. Miss Sibbie was almost ten and became more the portrait of his mother every day. Thomas always walked to greet them when they moved to London, or at least to greet Phyllis and Daisy.

"You and Baxter have become good friends"

"She ... she helped me a lot when I was not feeling well."

"Why? Were you ill? "

"Yes, I ... the flu."

"You smoke too much. When did it happen?"

Thomas was embarrassed. It would have been better not to take that topic "A few months after you were gone ... She was very, very kind. Everyone wondered what I had, but when I said it was all right  they didn’t do anything. Phyllis instead was really worried about me, if you know what I mean. She insisted so much, she took me to Dr. Clarkson, too"

Jimmy looked at him with a sad expression "You didn’t write me anything. Not a word ... "

"And why? You could not do anything. I would have made you worry unnecessarily _" Maybe_ _if you had avoided going to bed with that old chicken..._   "Really Jimmy. It doesn’t matter now"

Jimmy didn’t seem so sure. He was silent for a while '"And Andy?"

"Andrew came to help for the wedding of Lady Rose, and then they decided to call him at Downton  because we could not have only a footman, especially if the footman was Molesley."

"Now he is under buttler, isn’t he?"

"Yeah ... I think the old owl will never leave the service in order not to give him the house ..."

"And you understood immediately..." Jimmy made a vague gesture with his hand, turning the index  finger in the air.

"What?" Thomas looked at him puzzled.

"Well, that Andy was like you"

"Andrew is not at all like me. I am closed, grumpy, sarcastic and hypercritical. He is the nicest, cheerful, open and friendly person that I know."  Jimmy rolled his eyes and Thomas smirked.

"No, I did not understand. It took a lot and it all happened by chance, a bit confused and casual"

"He doesn’t  seem ...  your type" Jimmy was blushing slightly. The walk on the motorcycle in that sunny day of August had given to his skin a more intense golden hue.

"What do you mean with _he doesn’t seem my type_? I do not have a type. "

"I thought I was..." again those heavy-lidded eyes...

At that point, Thomas was turned red purple. "I don't ... It's not the look, not just it at least. It’s the personality. I like people resolute and strong, but also capable to show a gentle and kind side..."

"Am I so?" Jimmy looked at him straight in the eyes, more blue than the August sky.

Thomas stared, looking within himself an honest answer "You were. Now I don’t know anymore."

"But you're still the same arrogant, cocky, sarcastic judgmental!" Jimmy had accompanied the words with a pat on his back. They  laughed.

"Well, I thought I just said so!"

 

They had seen a few more times, then one night Thomas invited Jimmy home. To his surprise the other accepted and now, after pouring to himself another generous dose of cognac, he was sitting on the couch next to him, so close that their knees were touching. Thomas had the impression that the temperature would rise uncomfortably in the room. He felt on fire. Jimmy looked at him with that elusive, sweet and mocking look that Thomas could never decipher. His heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

"It's a big beautiful apartment. Fancy. Great cognac. "

"It’s Lord Grantham’s" Thomas smiled becoming red in the face, "Not his, I mean… I buy it from his own supplier now..."

"You're adorable when you blush. And even when you smile. You've done it more in these few days that in the four years I spent in Downton"

Thomas felt literally blaze "Jimmy now it’s better if you go..."

"Why? It 's still early, just ..." he glanced fleetingly at the grand-father clock "It’s only ten" Then he stood up and walked over to the clock for a better look. Gently opened the glass and touched the hands and the dial beautifully decorated. Thomas watched mesmerized. In a moment he was next to him, almost leaning against his back, the hand on his. 

"Gently, the hands might split." The voice was barely a whisper.

"Do you remember? Never go past the point where the clock's comfortable..."

Jimmy had turned toward him smiling and Thomas had leaned forward, pressing his lips against his hugging and pulling Jimmy against himself. He stood still for a moment, then began to struggle, "What the heck are you doing! Let me immediately!"

Thomas doesn’t loose the grip "Do you really want me to leave?" He was rubbing against him.  Jimmy could feel the pressure of his erection against his leg. It was choking "Stop it, you are disgusting!"

"Indeed? Give me your hand. Give me your hand I said" He grabbed his wrists and put pressure forcefully. Jimmy's face was distorted in the effort to break free, but Thomas was much stronger than him. He was about to cry. Thomas repeated calmly, almost gently "Give me your hand Jimmy"

He tried to resist even for a moment, then gave way. Thomas squeezed his fingers and the palm of the hand and put it on his face, lips, then down to his chest, over his heart "Do you feel it beating? Can you feel it?" Jimmy nodded. He stared at him with wide eyes. Thomas pushed his hand further down, between his legs. Jimmy objected, but Thomas began to wring his other wrist until he surrendered  "Can you feel it?" Jimmy closed his eyes. Another nod. Thomas continued to hold his wrists locked but now he just wanted to talk without being hit.

"You are playing with me...  Again! I thought it was impossible. Where is hidden O'Brien?"

"What are you saying?"

"No, what are YOU doing? You come to the Skylon every night, look for me all the time, ask me to come out, you come here to my house, touch me, look at me as if ... as if ... then, as usual, you are unaware of all this. Oh poor little Jimmy at the mercy of an old pervert!"

"You're mad!"

"I am mad Jimmy? I? What are you here for?

"You're my friend..."

"I'm not your friend Jimmy. I love you! I want you! In the same way you may want those pretty girls you date and much, much more! I would die for you, I would do anything for you, Jimmy. I HAVE DONE anything. I always put you in front of everything, even in front of Andrew. And you pretend not to know it!"

"Certainly I didn’t ask for it!"

"Indeed?  Didn’t you ask for it? Do you want to talk about your incoming at Downton? From so far, Jimmy, so far. That whole scene  _Can you help me here Mr. Barrow? Can you help me there? Carson not stand me._  You knew" Thomas was now beside himself. The anger built up in almost ten years pressed making him furious.

"You knew how I am. I did everything to make you understand! EVERYTHING. You could stop me at any time, a look would have been enough, an abrupt gesture. But you didn’t, you continued to deceive until the end"

" O'Brien told me..."

"I've never seen Sarah when we were together. I've never seen her with a gun to your head to force you to make me eyes"

"She told me you would send me away!"

"Bullshit! Bates had returned. I was going to be kicked out. Everyone knew I had no power. Even Molesley, Even the hall boys. You knew you teased me, with all that pantomime before poor Alfred. You knew I had every reason to believe my feelings were mutual, but this awareness didn’t  prevent you from trying to dismiss me, didn’t  avoid you from treating me like garbage for a whole year! "

He let him go. Jimmy slumped on the couch like a rag doll. "If you hate me so much why you still are after me, drooling?"

"But I don’t hate you, I could never. I would like, really I would. I almost died to learn to hate you, but I never be good at this. I love you too much to hate you. Even now, you creep into my life, exasperate Andrew to the point to send him away, and why? Why? For a joke ... "

Jimmy raised his head "You said it Thomas. Because you love me ... "

"What?" Thomas was nervously passing his hands through his hair.

"Nobody loves me, not Katherine, not Melanie, not Eleonore. I'm just a pastime, a pretty face to show to their friends. And when I will be no more so _cute_? You look at me, and still see the boy of ten years ago. Even better, you see ME with my flaws and my fears, and you can still love me."

"I cannot Jimmy. I MUST get something in return. I deserve to get something in return. If you want to be loved you must love me too."

"I would like to, believe me Thomas, I'd like to."

"No Jimmy, you do not want. I asked so little... You could stay at Downton with me, you could not send those damn Valentine cards, you could cut short with that old chicken. You could choose me!"

"But I'm a man!"

"I am a man too! And I have given up everything for you. Even myself! When you’re gone I almost became mad with grief. And where were you? You could write, you could call me! Jimmy, fuck, you were at a hour by train! We could see eachother! But you cared nothing ...  you only cares about yourself, and I'm tired of it. Probably if I were alone I would continue to slaughter me. But I’m no longer alone!"

"And who is he? Andy? Apart from the fact that I do not see him here, do you want me to believe that he is what you want? That ridiculous and awkward ugly guy with big ears, short nose and those horrid puppy eyes? "

"Yes Jimmy. Maybe sometimes he is awkward, because he is shy and gentle, and at first glance may not have your charm, but he is much enticing than you... You're just a cruel kid  Jimmy Kent. You like to be worshiped, but you're unable to see me as a human being. You don’t think I may have feelings, desires, hopes. Can you understand I am just like you? I bleed if I get injured, I suffer if I am humbled. You look at me, flirt with me, and then when I reach to touch you,  you treat me like a rabid dog. I'm not your toy "

"All of you say always the same thing" Jimmy had spoken with a faint voice, again bowing his head.

"What ?"

"All the people near me"

"All those who have the misfortune to fall in love with you"

Jimmy looked at him with eyes full of tears.

"Come on boy. Don’t be so serious. The world is full of egocentric and vain men like you. Only, I'm tired and I do not want you to play with my feelings anymore. That's it. At the bottom it is also my fault. I've allowed so far..."

Thomas waited patiently for Jimmy to calm himself, then called for a cab.

"It's a good-bye?"

"And why? We are friends. We found ourselves, we will meet again. "

"I love you Thomas, really."

"I know it,  Jimmy. I love you too."

Thomas hugged him gently, bringing a hand behind his head and shoving it against his shoulder. He inspired a last time the intoxicating scent of his hair, his skin, then pushed him out the door and  closed  it behind.

He slipped to the ground, crying, and the next morning he woke up on the floor. His eyes still burned, but the heart was much lighter.

 

~~~~

 

A couple of weeks later he received a phone call from Andrew.

"Thomas ... hello .. how's the restaurant, is it all right? The boys? Look, Mitchell would like to go to Vienna and asked me... "

"Come back home"

"What?"

"Come home immediately! Do you understand? I want you here! As soon as it’s possible. No more France,  no more  Mitchell, no more Henry Graves!"

Andrew closed his eyes and raised his hands to heaven  _yesssssssssss_  "I take the first train. I send you a telegram to let you know when I arrive.  I can take a cab from the station... "

"NO! I'll pick you up. Just let me know date and time.  Andrew, please, come home. I understand why you did it and probably you were right. You are the wisest of us. But now come home. "

"All right Thomas. I'm coming."

 


	12. Chapter 12

The train was delayed by ten miutes. Saint Pancras station was teeming with life. People walked quickly in every direction, most of the men with their coat collar turned up and their hat pulled down to protect from the moisture in that rainy day of mid-September.

Thomas paced nervously along the platform in front of binary number two, smoking one cigarette after another, for about an hour. The locomotive finally came puffing into the station, carriage doors opened with dull thuds and the passengers began to descend. Many people already had gathered to wait beside Thomas, leaning over trying to see who a brother, who a son, who a boyfriend, eyes wide, neck outstretched, mouth a thin line that stretched into a soft smile just crossing the gaze of the other, and then a rush of footsteps, a waving of hands, hugs.

Thomas also was looking for, holding his breath, his fists clenched, when suddenly saw Andrew moving  briskly toward him. "Thomas!" The other man threw himself into his arms, head buried in the lapel of his jacket.

"Thomas ..." Andrew  looked blank for a moment, then, after looking around quickly, returned the embrace, caressing his shoulders gently. No one, among the crowd of fathers and sons, brothers, former college classmates, fellow soldiers embracing each other was noticing  about two other men who greeted in the same way.

Thomas smiled "I love stations... Is this your only luggage?" He grabbed the two suitcases and walked quickly toward the exit.

"Yes.  I sent some baggage at home... "

"Perfect! Come, let's take a cab"

On the way to their house Andrew put his coat and the briefcase between them. Thomas thought he wanted to keep him away, but almost immediately he felt the gentle touch of Andrew on the elbow and a hand impatiently trying his, fumbling so that the driver did not see them in the rearview mirror.

Once off, Andrew rushed towards the door, strode through the narrow, clean driveway and climbed stairs two at a time. He pulled out his keys and entered without waiting for Thomas busy to pay the driver and take the luggage. When he went into the house felt himself caught in a hug, while a hurried hand closed the door and pulled the bolt. Two gentle but steady hands grabbed the neck and the small of his back, while a warm mouth rested on his. He let go of the bags that fell to the floor  with a thud, and reciprocate the  hug bending slightly the head back. The kiss was slow and tender. Andrew gave to himself the time to explore the beautiful red and fleshy mouth, rubbing his nose against the other, breathing in the smell of smoke, fog and aftershave, remaining finally forehead to forehead, unable to say a word but "Thomas" barely whispered.

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the proximity of each other, in spite of the wet coats. Thomas at one point looked at him frowning "You've lost weight..."

Andrew smiled, but a sad smile "I don’t like French food…"

"Everyone likes French food!"

Andrew continued to hug him "I hate patè, escargots, any kind of quiche and it sucks soupe à l'oignon and pastis! Without you everything had a horrible taste, like Aunt Clelia’s pudding!”

Thomas knew that to Andrew there was nothing worse than his Aunt’s house, where Parker boys were shipped each time a new baby was on the way. He ruffled Andrew’s  soft curls trying to smile, but he was worried: Andrew looked pale, with a haggard face and his clothes were really too wide on the hips. "Do you want something? I can make tea with a few slices of toast. There is also some roast beff "

Andrew’ stomach growled "It would be perfect, but only if I can be stuck to you"

Thomas made a charming and warm smile, gently stroking his upper arms "We can manage"

He  was able to make something in the kitchen, even though Andrew didn’t detach from him even for a moment,  his arms around  Thomas’s waist from behind, his cheek resting on Thomas’s temple. Fortunately the room was small and he didn’t need to move much to prepare food and tea. Andrew sat on the table to eat, dish, teapot and cup on the one hand, Thomas leaning on his chest. While chewing or swallowing he gave small, quick kisses on the forehead, on the high cheekbones, on the chin or the small hump of the nose.  Thomas’s  flavor mingled with that of food, making him feel warm and relaxed, finally after weeks.

From the large window that took almost the entire wall above the sink now entered the warm golden light of the afternoon sun.

"Finally it stopped raining"

"Sure, I’m here, honey"

Thomas leant to kiss his smile, and then he get closer to the angle of his neck where the scent was the strongest, breathing in the sweet smell, almost spicy.  _My gingerbread man..._

"Thomas" Andrew swallowed the last bite and then sighed "We need to talk"

His companion stiffened "Now?"

"There is not better or worse time. Faster we face all this, faster  we can move forward. I cannot live like this" Thomas leaned against the cupboard behind him. He knew this moment would come, he thought a lot during the last two weeks, also trying to mentally prepare the speech he was going to do, but his voice would not come out, and his hands trembled slightly.

He breathed deeply, "Andrew, luv, I understand. You're so young, so much younger than me. And ours is not a relationship, how can I say…" He swallowed visibly "…conventional. I cannot expect you to behave as if we were married. We're good, so good together, but you spoke out from the very beginning.You said to walk a little ways together and to see how it goes, nothing more. So if you need to... " Thomas had the impression that the heart was swelling dramatically, pressing down on the stomach, pushing the lungs, so pressed against the rib cage that soon it would not have space to beat. He caught his breath again "If you need sometimes to get away from me, to see someone else, other men, I mean, to go with other men, I understand. This is your home and you can always come back, to home... and to me too, of course"

Andrew ‘s mouth at that point was so open that Thomas for a moment feared his jaw was sprained.

"Excuse me?" The voice was strangely acute, an  octave above his normal tone "Excuse me Thomas, what the fuck are you saying?" As he spoke he began to sting him with his index finger on the shoulder "I'm sorry, but until proven otherwise it’s YOU who want to fuck around, it’s YOU who want to get  into bed bloody Jimmy Kent, it’s you who greeted me gracefully,  glad I let you free, do you remember? And now what would I want? A bit of freedom in our unconventional relationship? Well, I have something to tell you, you little sod!"

Thomas looked at him with wide eyes, trying to protect his sore shoulder unsuccessfully.

"I cannot stand this anymore! Look at this house! Apart from that damn clock and the photo of your mother, there is nothing yours in here. It takes ten minutes to pack up everything and disappear. Not a single framework, not a tent, not even a cup Thomas! As if you were a guest here! As if you didn’t want to settle, to have ties, roots! "

"It 's just that in this kind of stuff you have more patience than me, more taste ..." he couldn’t look at him anymore, eyes down, fixed to the floor.

"Bullshit, Thomas! For the restaurant you had no problem to choose and resolve. But you can’t make this house your home. Why? It's my fault? Maybe it’s time to put everything on the table! I want it, I want a conventional relationship, and a conventional companion. I want a wedding, is it all right? I want to trust you,  to count on you. I want to wake up every morning for the next thirty years and see your ugly face  first thing in the morning! And I’ll not share you with anyone, nor with Mr. Call me Jimmy nor with anyone else!"

"But, but… I thought that you with that guy, Henry Grave..."

"You idiot! I wanted to make you jealous, I was sick of seeing you go behind your bloody Jimmy with your  tongue hanging out, and look how it turned out! Fuck!"

"But you went to France with him!"

"Ask Mitchell and his wife! I do not know where the hell is Henry Graves, probably he is back in Baltimore! I have not seen him since that afternoon! "

"But you came back two in the morning ..."

"Yes, and I found you out here with your precious little friend! However that evening I saw, I don’t know how many times, that awful movie with Garbo" Andrew hunched his shoulders slightly bending the head forward  _"Gimme a whiskey, ginger ale on the side._   _And don’t be stingy, baby…_ Ah! luckily at  some point I fell asleep... and not that Henry didn’t want me, but...  _"_

"Why? What did he do?" Thomas grabbed him by the elbow.

"Now do you care? Now? Well don’t worry, your honor is saved" He watched while his eyes filled with tears "I wouldn’t let anyone touch me except you! Anyone, except you!” He covered his face with his arms, shaken by sobs.

Thomas hugged him, trying to make him lower his arms and wiping his tears with a cloth "Andrew, luv, forgive me. Forgive me, I'm daft. I didn’t understand anything! I was willing to swallow anything to not lose you, when in fact the only thing we want, the both of us, it’s stay together!" He was rocking him gently, stroking his back with small, circular movements "I love you Andrew Parker. I love you "

Andrew stopped sobbing, although he was still crying "Really?"

"Really. It’s so difficult..." Thomas cupped Andrew’s  face in his hands and stroked his lips with the thumbs with tenderness, eyes wet.

"What's so difficult?"

"One never talks about such things, Andrew. Never talks..." Thomas put a hand over his eye "There is no I love you, there is no future, there is no claim, no ask. You steal what you can, a tender moment, some time together, pretending that can last, when you know it will not last at all. This is what everyone always told me, repeated to me. Feign and hide.  My God, those nights alone, in the trenches, without a letter, without a photo, without being able to talk to others about what I had left at home, because I didn’t leave anything, you know? I didn’t even have a house! Before I met you I thought Downton was my home, a place where I could only enter through the back door! Even the dog could do what he wanted and I was not even master of my room ... Carson could enter at any time to inspect it! I cannot, Andrew, I still cannot think about things like paintings, pillows, silver frames. I have lived too many years always on the edge, always afraid of being thrown out, sent away! But I swear to you Andrew, I swear! For me home is where you are now!"

He was looking straight into his eyes. He wanted that there were no more misunderstandings, no doubts. "I don’t know what will happen in thirty years, I could not be there, I might go mad, I don’t know. But I will try with all my strength to take care of you, to love you and help you and be near you as long as you want me. I was so afraid to say this out loud Andrew, but I trust you, blindly. I trust you." He hugged and kissed him tenderly, sucking away the tears. Andy left him to do it, slowly stroking his hands, arms, back.

"Tell me again Thomas, please"

"I love you Andrew. I love you. You're my companion, you are my life, you're my everything"

"I've been waiting four years to hear you to say so, Thomas Barrow ..."

Thomas pulled the vest and unbuttoned his shirt with one hand and his pants with the other  "You're too dressed Andrew ..."

"You too, but we can fix it…"

Thomas was beginning to relax. He had feared Andrew really wanted to be free, to meet other men, and he was terrified of losing him. Now, safe in his arms, he felt alive again, finally at home. "I'm sorry luv, I'm sorry. I made you suffer so much"

"It’s all right, it’s all right, it's past. I know how you are, but  at least once in a life time, just once, I needed hear you saying it, otherwise I would have always had the doubt that in reality there was nothing, that it was just me wanting to imagine so ... come closer, I missed you so much!"

Andrew, after getting rid of pants and underwear, lay down on the table and lifted his legs, leaning on the cupboard and clutching Thomas’s sides between his thighs.

Thomas had a strange expression, as if he was facing another internal battle.

When he spoke Andrew struggled to recognize his voice, low and husky.

"Andrew, I want you."

"Also I, Thomas."

"No luv, I want you. Can I get you? Now? " He was shaking.  Andrew understood and nodded, better balancing on the edge of the table.

Thomas reached out to get something from one of the shelves, then bent down to kiss him again, stroking him with both hands . He hadn’t worn the usual glove that morning, now when he wasn’t at work he didn’t use it anymore, and those rough caresses on the skin of the thighs, around the sex and the testicles excited Andrew beyond the edges. Kisses and caresses distracted him from the slight discomfort he felt when Thomas inserted first one finger, then another, trying to massage and prepare his tight hole. When it seemed he was ready Thomas stroked himself with his greased hand, then went close to Andrew and slid slowly inside him, continuing to kiss and caress him, sliding the fist closed around his penis. Andrew said nothing, he could not even breathe.

"Tell me when I can move"

Andrew felt so vulnerable, completely subjugated. For the first time all the power was in Thomas’s hands and not the other way "Whenever you want luv, whenever you want..."

Thomas began to rock, watching Andrew, the expressions on his face, searching for  signs of discomfort or rather pleasure, as he hoped.

"You ... you've never been so ..."

Thomas leaned forward, lips on his ear "I'm afraid Andrew, I’m always so afraid, to let me go, to lose control. For years I lived in fear, and I'm tired of living like this. Andrew I trust you, I trust you"

Thomas grabbed him by the buttocks bringing him forward and then began to push faster, continuing to stroke him between legs. Andrew reached orgasm strongly, shaking like a leaf, clinging to the neck of his lover. Thomas slipped away and came rubbing against him, kissing and biting his lips and chin. Andrew hugged him and wrapped his long legs around his hips, leaning completely against him.

"I love you Thomas Barrow"

"I love you too, Andrew Parker"

 

The day after Andy returned to work, greeted by big smiles and pats on the back. The most glad to see him were Alfred, Nick and Peter, the only ones who had realized how much Thomas was hurt. A few weeks later Mitchell sent to Andrew a very kind and polite mail,  thanking him for accompaning them in their trip and preventing him to do nonsense. 

He had heard from some friends that the two hotels Andy had advised him against had been a big scam to their buyers: one had structural problems, and it would have been easier to knock down and rebuild it from scratch, and the other had all licenses falsified. Mitchell deposited a considerable amount of money into his bank account, too, and that was the thanksgiving Andrew appreciated most.

The crisis barely touched them, and they managed to get along without too many problems. Not everything was perfect, but Andrew always said to Thomas that the important thing was to be together.

One afternoon Andrew came home with a black eye.

"What happened to you? Who did it? I thought you went to your parents!" Thomas examined the eye, then breathed a sigh of relief because the eye was not damaged but only swollen and bluish. He put ice above, wrapped in a towel. "Press it strongly, so it will not swell further... maybe"

Andrew said nothing.

"I prepare some tea, and you will tell me what happened!"

"It was Reggie ..."

"Reginald? Your brother? The one who gets married in May?"

"Yes, he ..."

"I hope you beat him, too!"

"Yes ...  I think he has a black eye and a split lip and...  a dislocated arm..."

"Hmm ... May I ask why?"

"......."

"What? I didn't hear"

"He tried to blackmail me"

"Ah!"

"He waited for me outside the house. He said that unless I gave him what he wanted he would tell to Ma and Pa ..."

"Tell what?"

"About us"

"But you've already given money to him!"

"Yes, but he wanted more"

"And what did you do?"

"I went to Ma and Pa and I told them all"

"What?"

"About us!"

Thomas put his head in his hands.

"And when you've beaten?"

"Reggie said he would go to the police, if I didn’t give him what he asked for, then I was so angry and we fought and...  Ma approached Reggie and told him he would not  be part of the family anymore, and no one would ever spoken to him and no one would go to his wedding if he had done such a thing.  And then she told me to get out and not to show my face for a  while... nor yours..."

He began to cry.  

"It's not right!"

"No, no it's not fair..."

"God! Andrew, I'm so sorry!"

"Hold me tight, Thomas, please. You are my family, for a long time now. That doesn’t really matter."

Thomas moved close and hugged him tenderly, having him rest his head on his stomach and rubbing his shoulders.

"You too, Andrew"

"What?"

"You're my family”.


	13. Chapter 13

The eye healed in about ten days, but another wound would not heal. Andrew continued to think about what had happened, the resentment of his brother Reggie, the face devoid of expression of his father, while he explained he lived with Thomas not only to split the cost of the rent, and the words of his mother, "Go out! You made a mess, boy! Go out and don’t dare to show your face for a while, neither you nor your friend! "

Andrew left without looking back, full of anger. But then the anger gone and only bitterness remained. He had never thought to tell them about Thomas and himself. He would like to, of course, but he knew that would have been impossible to be accepted for who he was. He had decided a long time ago that his feelings, with whom he slept, all those things were just his own business. But when his brother had  threatened him, Andrew had gone mad. His love for Thomas was not something to hide, to be ashamed of. Andrew was so proud of the man he loved, of all that they were able to do together. He wouldn’t allow an idiot as Reggie to make him feel dirty and wrong. At first it seemed the right thing to do, but now, with the expressions first horrified and then disappointed of his parents printed in his mind, he was not so sure.

He began to work outside when he was just a boy, and since then he always had to defend himself, until he met Thomas and it just hasn't been the same. 

Andrew  would never give up him and would never apologize for himself, but even though he knew he had made the right decision, this didn't make the wound less painful.

 

~~~~

 

The weather was warm, despite the end of November. Andrew and Alfred had gone together to visit a new supplier in Paddington and then decided to walk back cutting through Hyde Park.

There were children playing ball or hopscotch, guarded by stern-looking nannies, some elderly gentleman was reading the newspaper or feeding pigeons, a couple of cops were riding around the park, while someone spoke from the speaker's corner.

Alfred pointed to a kiosk "We could eat something… It's noon!"

"Why not..." They bought  at a kiosk two fish and chips, wrapped in a cone of wax paper, and two beers and sat on a bench.

Andrew sent down large bits, while Alfred chewed slowly.

"It's a bit different from what you cook chef..."

"Yes, but I like it. A lot! "He laughed trying to wipe his long greasy fingers with a handkerchief before drinking. "So things are better now between you and Thomas ..."

Andrew looked at him hesitantly for a moment, unsure of what to say, but the day was beautiful and Alfred just wanted to be kind, so relaxed and smiled "Yes, much better. Thanks"

"Jimmy has neither been seen..."

"Yup. And frankly I don’t miss him"Andrew pulled out a cigarette, lit it and smoked almost half before he could find the guts to ask what was going on  in his head.

"You don’t mind?"

Alfred looked genuinely surprised "What?"

"About me and Thomas. Doesn’t it bother you? I mean, many think it’s illegal as well as immoral _" My_ _family, for example ..._

Alfred sighed. Before answering he took the time to look around. "No, it doesn’t bother me. But it was not always so. At first I ... I didn’t realize. They told me so much nonsense. That it was wrong, that it was against God and nature. And I believed so. I didn’t mind. That’s just how it was, as everyone said at home, at school and at church. "

Andrew needed to understand "And why did you change your mind?"

Alfred sighed "Thomas. He made me change my mind. He ... He suffered. In front of the others he put on  the usual annoying face. You know , when he smokes in your face, you'd kill him, wouldn't you? "

Andrew nodded with a shy smile. Thomas knew how to be irritating.

"But when he thought nobody was looking he was so sad, and looked at Jimmy in a way that was excruciating, so vulnerable. I know well that feeling: being close to someone but not in the way you would. It was not much different from what I felt for... "Alfred was blushing "for Ivy. Why was  my pain better than his? More dignified? It made no sense. And if the pain was the same then also... Even the feeling of love was the same feeling... "

Alfred had his eyes fixed on the ground now, folding his hands to avoid fidgeting,  not knowing what else to say.

Andrew wanted to pat him on the back, but his hands were too oily "You're really a good person, chef."

"I do not know. I do not think so" He took a sip of beer.

"Sure it is. You're a good pal, as Thomas said. "

Alfred choked "Really? That 's what he said? "

"Yup. A good pal, who likes what he does. That’s what he told me"

Alfred smiled "I'm really glad. You know, with Thomas… Well it is not easy to understand what’s going on inside his head. "

Trying to clean his hands with his handkerchief, Andrew murmured, more to himself than to Alfred "No, it is not always easy ..."

 

~~~~

 

"Mr. Barrow? "

"What’s the matter, Nick? Can you ask to Mr. Parker?" Thomas was annoyed. He was making the monthly inventory and the guys  knew he didn’t want to be interrupted.

"Excuse me, but the gentleman at the door asked for you, and not to say anything to Mr. Parker..."

"Why? Who is? "

"Mr. Parker"

Thomas was really irritated "Who is the man looking for me, not Andrew"

"That 's what I said, the gentleman that is looking for you is Mr. Parker himself..."

Thomas swallowed nervously "Senior?"

Nick scratched his head thoughtfully "I don’t think so... He seems to have more or less your age"

 _Edward then, the eldest son..._  Thomas wanted a cigarette, and even a scotch, double, neat.

"Let 's see what this Mr. Parker wants, then" He walked toward the door followed by a very puzzled Nick.

 Coming from the gloom of the warehouse Thomas needed a moment to get used to the glare of the afternoon, while a dark shape, almost six inches shorter than he was, approached him hastily "Mr Barrow, I think. Good Evening. Can we go somewhere and talk?"

Thomas put up a hand to shade  his eyes from the sun and finally managed to focus. Almost laughed to himself, because in front of him was a miniature Andrew: same sweet eyes, same full mouth, same curls escaping from the flat cap, with only a few more years and several less inches.

He tried to make a blank face and reached out the other hand. "Nice to meet you Mr. Parker. I should invite you in, but I think I understand you don’t want to see Andrew... "

The man in front of him scratched his chin nervously before answering. "I want to see Andy, of course" He emphasized  the last word  "But first I want to talk with you alone, if you can"

Thomas looked down on him. "Yes, I can. Just the time to get my coat and hat" They walked down a stretch of Regent Street,  then Thomas turned left quickly, followed with some difficulty by Andrew’s brother. They entered a small pub and sat at a table aside.

Thomas swallowed most of his scotch before he could speak "So Mr. Parker, to what do I owe the privilege of this visit?"

"Call me Eddie" He lit one of those little cigars even Andrew smoked "Ma and Pa asked me to talk to you, Thomas. They would like you to leave Andy alone. "

Thomas was about to reply, but the little man stopped him with a wave of his hand "Don’t get me wrong. I reported the message, but nothing more. If you left Andy, he would suffer for a while and then he would find someone else. He is not interested in girls. I understood this long ago"

Thomas grabbed the lighter that the other had placed on the table and lit a cigarette, looking straight into Eddie’s eyes. He didn’t know where the other was going with it.

"I just wanted to meet you, to know what kind of guy you are. At home they told you were an old pervert and Andy is with you just for money."

Thomas opened his mouth in surprise letting out the cigarette that fell on the back of his hand burning  him "Shit!"

The waiter glared at them.

Eddie laughed, the same laughter of Andrew, clean, loud. Without intending to do so, even Thomas just laughed.

"You didn't really hurt yourself, did you? “ Eddie handed him back the lighter while Thomas took another cigarette.

"Just a bit..."

Eddie moistened his lips "I needed to see for myself... I just want Andy to be happy. I would have preferred otherwise. A wife, children, a normal life. But I cannot give up on him just because he is not as I would like. Anyway, Andy is a good guy" He hesitated, searching for the right words, if there was any. "I cannot do anything about my parents, nor about my brothers. I'm sorry. But you are always welcome in my home. Come to visit us in Coventry. My wife and the boys would be happy to see the both of you"

Thomas was embarrassed  "I... Thanks Eddie. Really. This is very important to Andrew"

Eddie gave him a pat on the back "Believe me, even to me"

 

~~~~

 

“Thomas?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sleeping?”

“…Not now…”

“Eddie says you are a nice guy”

“Mutual feeling…”

“Sweet dreams, luv”

“Sleep well, honey”

They feel asleep almost immediately, in each other’s arms, lulled by the sound of rain.


	14. Chapter 14

Thomas was gone to visit Daisy. A bad pneumonia had weakened Mr Mason and she realized it was now time to deal with the management of the farm. She moved there before Christmas and immediately searched for Thomas to ask him advice on how to better sell her products and what prices to do to be competitive. They had agreed to meet. Thomas was the one that insisted.

He unexpectedly found himself in need to see again vast expanses of wet grass, clouds caught in the branches of trees, the many shades of green and blue that he always thought he hated but still remained in his eyes and somehow in his heart. He asked Andrew to follow him, but the man refused. While they were in Downton Daisy, in her shy and awkward way, with dreamy looks and little attentions, had made it clear she wanted more than friendship between them, but he only had eyes for Thomas, and seven years later it was still so. He tried to be nice to her, but in the distracted and superficial way of people in love and happy, and he was kind of shy about that.

Moreover he liked to stay at home alone sometimes. Thomas got up early to catch the seven o’clock train, but he stayed in bed and went back to sleep, lulled by the familiar sounds coming from the bathroom: the bristles of the brush that rubbed against the edges of the bowl, the toc toc of the razor against the surface of the sink for dropping the residues of shaving soap, the sound of water against the teeth of the comb, cans and bottles opened, closed, moved... He got up later and prepared a strong tea, sipping it lazily around the house and putting some things in place.

The library in the living room was filled with Thomas’s history books and Andrew’s adventure novels and Mucha lithographs, found on a market stall, created bizarre color spots on the walls.

The narrow closed porch at the back, overlooking the garden, had been transformed in a laboratory: there was a small table with a drawer Thomas had made himself, to collect the small parts in an orderly manner, and shelves on which were stored the mechanisms of clocks to repair.

A regular customer of theirs, an antiques dealer, brought him clocks other clockmakers had already refused to get their hands on "No commitment, Mr Barrow! If you do that, it’s fine. Otherwise don’t worry, dismantle it and use the pieces as you wish" But rarely Thomas gave up. Sometimes it took several weeks, sometimes a few months, but eventually Andrew heard coming from the porch a chime never heard before, or a new melody. Then he looked out the French door "Who is it?" "The German, with the case in yew wood! Did you hear that sweet sound he does? It's just as I had imagined " He bent his head again on the gears, smiling slightly, his tongue between his teeth, all focused on the mechanism, while Andrew felt stifled by emotion and a vague sense of tenderness and pride.

Coming out into the garden to do a little yardwork – it was necessary to remove the weeds around crocuses and tulips and to put a support for the camellia full of buds - Andrew had forgotten to put galoshes. So, when the doorbell rang at the entrance, he had to remove his shoes to go back into the house and to the door. The postman looked puzzled but still delivered him the telegram, which he tossed carelessly on the sheffield tray mail, as he did with the other four which arrived within hours.

About five o'clock, while he was sitting on the sofa reading the True Detective Mysteries, the phone rang.

"Good evening, I would like to speak with Mr. Thomas Barrow" The man was well mannered and very formal.

"He's not here right now"

"Do you know when I could find him?" The voice revealed disappointment and annoyance.

"Tomorrow morning"

"Tomorrow morning? Not before?"

Andrew was growing impatient. "Excuse me, who’s speaking?"

"Oh certainly, I’m sorry. I’m Mr. Milford, of the law firm Milford & Jennings "

"Then it 's you who sent all those telegrams therefore"

The man sighed "Yes. I must speak to Mr. Barrow urgently"

"May I ask why?"

"Excuse me, are you a family member?"

Andrew bit his lower lip. Always the same question... "No, I'm his business partner" _And his butler too ..._

"Please, it's really important. If you see him tonight, he can call me anytime."

Anytime... Andrew was seriously worried now.

 

 

Thomas was sitting in the office of Mr. Milford, a distinguished gentleman in his fifties with gray mustache and sharp eyes, on an uncomfortable chair in front of a desk that would not allow him to stretch his legs, listening to the lawyer who offered his condolences for the recent loss of his cousin Rufus Barrow.

"Is he dead?" Thomas looked at the lawyer, tried to concentrate, but he could no longer follow what the man was saying. "I’m sorry ... We sent each other cards for Christmas and a couple of letters a year, not much more. Rufus never mentioned he was ill. "

"Your cousin was coy. And he knew you would do nothing. Or so he said"

"You were in Bombay? You saw Rufus before he died?"

"Yes, Mr. Barrow. I was there for another job and your cousin needed a lawyer leaving soon for London. Let me tell you that your resemblance is nothing short of amazing" Mr Milford stroked his mustache with a nervous gesture "I will not hide from you the fact that I thought to see a ghost when you came in."

"Yes. People continuously mistook me for him and vice versa when we were kids...” Thomas said the last sentence lost in thought “How did it happen?" His hands tightened on the edge of the chair become livid.

"Pulmonary edema, caused by severe heart failure"

Thomas was bleached, lips like sandpaper. "Did he suffer?"

"He was very ill ..." The lawyer sighed without another word.

"Thanks for letting me know. It is really kind of you, but I do not understand the urgency of this meeting. I doubt you contacted me for questions of inheritance "

The lawyer straightened and cleared his throat "I contacted you, Mr Barrow, because your cousin named you legal guardian of his underage daughter, Beatrix Barrow"

"What?" Andrew, which until then had remained silent next to Thomas, stood up abruptly.

Mr Milford made a gesture inviting him to sit back. "Mr. Parker, please. Obviously you are not obliged to accept, Mr. Barrow, but I would beg you to consider the last wishes of your cousin."

Thomas looked puzzled "Bea... How old is she now? Eleven? "

"Twelve, Mr. Barrow." Thomas wrung his fingers nervously "I ... I cannot take care of a twelve years old girl... I'm... I'm not even married, and Rufus knew... But are you sure he referred to me? No mistakes?"

Mr Milford looked for the umpteenth time the papers in front of him "If those papers you showed me are yours, there is no mistake"

Thomas tried to concentrate on what to say, but his mind wandered on his own. Memories hit with urgency and violence; emotion burned his throat, cheeks wet with tears. He had not even realized he was crying.

"I apologize. Rufus and I were very close when we were boys..." He wiped his face with a handkerchief Andrew gave him. "What happens if I refuse to be the legal guardian?"

Mr Milford hesitate awkward "I tried to contact the father of your cousin, but he wrote that he had no sons. Mr. Barrow warned me of this possibility"

 _Old fool ..._   "And my father? My sister?"

"They confirmed there never was a Rufus Barrow in your family"

_That 's what they will say when I leave? That I have never existed?_

Thomas was petrified. Suddenly he felt Andrew’s gentle hand and a soft brush against his arm. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

"As far as I know, it is useless to try to contact the family of her mother. So if you, as I understand, doesn’t accept to become the guardian, I'll have to deliver the child to an orphanage, to be adopted"

"Adopted? She is twelve! She'll be there a couple of years and then she will work as kitchen maid somewhere! Waking up at five, working fourteen hours a day, for next to nothing for the rest of her life!"

Mr Milford fixed his letter opener pretending a keen interest in the object "Yes, Mr. Barrow, I think so..."

"Rufus did not leave anything?"

"As long as he worked, he provided he and his child a more than decent life, but then he fell ill and stopped working and doctors and care consumed all the savings..."

Thomas raised his head up "Where is Bea now? Still in Bombay? "

"No, of course not! Your cousin wanted her to return in London. Grow here. That's why he looked for someone who was returning to England, and the choice went for me. Now the child is at my house. My wife is taking care of her. You know, we have two daughters about her age, too. "

Thomas ran a hand through his hair. "Mr Milford, all this situation for me is absurd and sudden. I wish I had a few days to reflect. I realize to abuse your kindness, but ... "

"Today is Tuesday. We can resend Thursday. It 's the best I can do." Milford extended his hand making them understand he had other clients in the waiting room and escorted them to the door.

Thomas ran down the few stairs and rushed outside, outdoors, the head spinning and the stomach upset. Andrew held him by the arm, preventing him from falling or losing touch with reality.

"Oh Andrew, what can I do? What can I do? "

The other stared at him, his smile sweet and tender as ever.

"Let’s get the girl, and bring her home, Thomas"


	15. Chapter 15

They returned home with an address of Wilton Crescent and an appointment for the next day at eighteen o’clock.

Thomas, the minute he walked in to the house, without even taking off his coat, immediately grabbed the phone and called Mr. Murray, asking about Mr. Milford and the law firm Milford & Jennings: the lawyer reassured him and made sure they were one of the most reliable law offices in London. He called then Asprey, the last company for which his cousin had worked, and managed to get to the name of a colleague who had worked with him in Bombay and was back in London from a couple of months: all of them confirmed what Mr. Milford had said about Rufus’s disease and about his daughter. Eventually Thomas contacted Lady Rose, who connected him with Lord Flintshire: he promised to let him have news for the next day.

Andrew sometimes came close to him, absently stroking  his shoulder  or, attracted by his gestures, handed him a piece of paper or a pen. At one point he brought him a cup of tea, too. After so many years together he knew there was nothing to do. Thomas needed information to calm down, to rest assured, or he could not find peace. The best thing was to wait and let him do it.

At the restaurant  Thomas made a real mess. He mistook some orders angering Alfred and Andrew was forced to send him home, where he found him a few hours later, in the living room, sitting in front of a box that had been abandoned in the back of the closet for years. It contained letters yellowed by time and faded photos. Thomas  was holding some of them, looking thoughtful.

"How will we do Andrew? We are two men, we don’t know anything about children. And she is a girl! And what about our work? We have insane hours! "

Andrew sighed and sat next to him, taking one of the photos from his hands and looking distractedly. Two young man were smiling a bit stiffened, one sitting, the other standing next to him with a hand on the back of the chair. Andrew understood why it was so easy to mistake them. Someone had written on the back _Rufus and Thomas, Manchester 1906_.

"Thomas, luv, keep calm. We just need to get organized. With children you don’t need to have a  curriculum. They only need to be loved. When you will not know what to do, try to remember when you were a kid, what you felt and the way you would have wanted the adults to help you. Generally it works. Together we can get through this" He smiled trying to be convincing, even though he was tired, sleepy and a bit worried too. "We must make some changes here"

The other looked at him frowning. Andrew almost laughed seeing his sullen expression.

"Mr Pout, we are no longer in Downton! Stop making that face! " He picked up a magazine and hit him on the head. Thomas muttered, but laughing.

"That's better. We have to move the living room"

"But why?"

"We will turn your bedroom in living room, the little girl will take my room, and Abigail will sleep in the study"

"Who’s Abigail?"

Andrew smiled nervously "Nick’s sister. She needs money, but doesn’t want to leave alone her boys. They are a bit... vivacious. She can come here when we go to the restaurant and leave in the morning, after dropping  Beatrix off  to school, when she… get… to… school. Don’t look at me with such a face!"

Thomas got up to look for the cigarettes "Ah! And where will we sleep? "

"Here! This will be your room and the dining room will be mine! So coming home in the middle of the night we’ll not bother them. And the bathroom connects the two rooms ... "

"Here ... And where should we eat?" He looked at Andrew narrowing eyes.

"This is the sore point ... I'm sorry but I think you should move your clocks. We need to use the porch"

"It’s impossible!" Thomas was pouting again, without even realizing it.

Andrew ran a hand over his mouth "The laundry is too small, but if we use the porch too, removing the wall, there will be enough room. You can move all your stuff in the bow window... " He pointed to the window behind Thomas. "I know you need light, and this is the best place ..."

"The porch was the best place, before you decided otherwise! Have you already  enrolled her in school?" His tone was sarcastic.

"No, but I talked with Mrs Mitchell and she gave me some advise. Don’t look at me like that, I said! Someone had to think about practical things while you were playing Sherlock Holmes! "

Thomas folded his arms across his chest, remaining silent. Andrew was right, and his proposals were all logical and plausible, but this didn’t make him feel better. Another radical change in his life, at his age…

"Andrew, a woman sleeping under the same roof with two men ... What will the neighbors say?"

"Since when do you care what people say?"

"Always, damn it! You should know!" He lit another cigarette and began to play nervously with his lighter. "It’s dangerous luv. You know: for us it is better to keep a low profile, to not draw attention! "

"Thomas I know it's a gamble, but we don’t have much choice. And believe me, Abigail is above suspicion!  She has the same rustic loveliness of Mrs Patmore ... but she is smart and knows her place! "

"Dunno, it's all wrong ... My sister would take care of Beatrix..."

"Thomas, she doesn’t want. No one wants. The lawyer was clear on this point. "

"Maybe I should go talk to her..."

"Oh sure. Be my guest! The last time it went not so well, despite Phyllis’s help!"

Thomas sighed "I could maybe put her in a boarding school! I can afford it"

"And how would she grow, alone? How would she become? Could you sleep at night knowing you left someone who needs you so much because of selfishness and fear? "

Thomas didn’t have the strength to argue. He knew Andrew was right. He grabbed forcefully the hand of his companion. "I owe you so much luv, truly. I ... I really don’t know what I would do without you!"

"The right thing Thomas, as you always do when it comes to decide with your heart ... It’s the brain that doesn’t work always well!" Andrew hugged him tenderly, holding his head with the arms and rocking him so for a while. When he felt him relaxing,  he backed away just a little looking again at the picture of the two boys, this time more carefully. "You looked so much alike..."

"My father and my uncle are twins ... A clockmaker and a jeweler. And so it should have been for their children. "

"What happened?" Andrew settled comfortably in the corner of the couch, taking Thomas in his arms, chest to back, his face buried in his  soft hair.

"I was 16 . Rufus 19. A couple of years before came to live next to us a school teacher and his wife. Her name was Elaine. She was twenty years old, sweet and kind, while her husband was a widower twice her age. She began hanging  out with my family, mostly my sister. Rufus met her, they fell in love. Same old story. He was too young and it would end in a big disappointment and a few tears, but… her husband beat her. A lot. Sometimes a black eye, sometimes a bruise on her cheek, sometimes a fat lip. She had an excuse every time: once she had stumbled and fallen, once she hadn’t seen the window, another time she got up at night in the dark and she had slammed against the door ajar. But we all understood..."

Thomas stopped for a moment. Memories were painful and unpleasant. After so many years he still remembered perfectly the poor swollen face, those sad eyes hungry for love. For the first time that day, he wondered who Beatrix resembled more, if she had inherited the nose of the Barrows or Elaine’s soft features and honey-colored hair.

"She became pregnant. Not with Rufus, he never even touched her with a finger until she stayed with her husband, or so he said. That beast one night came home and beat her so hard she lost the baby. She almost died, too. My cousin decided it could not go like that anymore. He managed to find for Elaine false papers and a fake marriage certificate. He found work as cutter of gemstones in South Africa first, and then in India He was good at it. Beatrix was born in 1920. At that time they had given up. They were sure the abortion made her infertile, and instead... Three or four years later, when things were starting to get better and that wretched man wanted the divorce to remarry with another poor creature, Elaine died of a kidney infection. And now Rufus"  Tears filled his eyes.

"You loved him?"

"Yes. Sure. Rufus...  We grew up together, and he was pretty much the only one who has always accepted me without judging, the only one I've ever been able to trust before you. I could tell him everything, how I felt, what I wanted. I was so scared at first. You know, don’t you? "

Andrew kissed him on the forehead in a usual gesture. "I do, but I've never been scared. I always had so little to lose... How did you end up in service? "

"My father... he understood. About  me. How I am. I do not know how. I think he knew even before I realized it myself. He began to move away from me. First I had to spend every spare moment in the shop with him, and then all of a sudden it was no longer necessary. He didn’t  take me hunting with him anymore, he didn’t talk to me, not even to give me orders. I had become invisible. I decided to leave before the situation got worse. My sister is not bad, just she always done as he told, and continues to do so."

"And your uncle?"

"Rufus ran away  with a married woman. Her husband went to him  and showed up at our house making  a scene. To my uncle it was an unbearable shame. To him my cousin ceased to exist the day he left home"

"Have you helped him?"

"Yes, of course! I had worked for about a year. I gave him every cent I had. Not much. I would  want to do more. And for a long time I was the only one who knew where they had gone "

Thomas curled up even more against Andrew, clasping his arms around himself.

"I will miss our intimacy"

"Me too, but the doors have however locks… It'll be fine "

"And if she doesn’t like us?"

"Thomas Barrow, it’s impossible that she is not gonna like you. Everyone likes you!"

Thomas looked at him in amazement, then began to laugh loudly, rising from the couch "Oh please! And I’m also listening to you! We better go to bed.  Gonna be a long day tomorrow "

"Are you so worried?"

"I'm terrified, Andrew"

The other smiled as they climbed the stairs together "Well, that makes two of us then!"


	16. Chapter 16

Andrew woke up early that morning. He stayed for a while curled up next to Thomas, lulled by the warmth and the steady breathing, smelling the scent of his skin between the neck and shoulder. Usually his proximity was relaxing and helped him to go back to sleep, but it didn’t work. He got out of bed then to not wake up him, slipping silently out of the blankets. 

He went down in the living room but regretted it immediately: the contrast between the warm bed and the cold room was very unpleasant and he was almost going back upstairs, when he saw the box Thomas had left there the night before.

He sat cross-legged on the couch, a blanket over his shoulders, and looked at the contents. Resisting the urge to read the letters, he pulled out the photos and watched them in the cold light of the morning. 

Some picture were taken in a studio: a family, obviously happy even in a stiff pose, smiled to the camera. Andrew immediately identified Thomas’s mother, the same face of the picture on the dresser, only younger and serene, in her arms a boy of three or four years. A girl a few years older was straight standing next to his father, a man tall and strutted on, beautiful despite the handlebar mustache. In another shot the man posed sitting with the kid next to him, a hand on his shoulder, his stare fierce and full of affection...  A few years later the same man would cause his son to leave without a second glance, because he didn’t live up to his ideals, his dreams,  his expectations, a source of shame rather then pride. Andrew shivered. He wrapped himself in the blanket and took other photos. Some, taken over the years, portrayed cricket matches. In several shots he could identify  Thomas and his cousin, on their faces the satisfied expression of winners.

There were other pictures of a young Thomas wearing a livery with other footmen, but not at Downton, and a couple of pictures in uniform. _He is stunnig even in those horrible clothes…_

On the bottom of the box drew his attention a picture battered, with the edges crumpled and threadbare with the image of a woman definitely undressed.  _What the hell..._  

Intrigued he pulled it out and looked better in the light. He laughed when realized it was an advertising card with Evelyn Nesbit, but then he saw that behind that there was another picture. For the habit of keeping them on top of one another they were consumed in the same points and almost glued together. 

One could hardly got the wrong idea about the small patches, round in the middle and jagged on the edges, which stained the surface of the second image: tears. The two pictures had been cut along the lateral  margins and Andrew knew why: his brother had done the same, otherwise the photos would not be the right size for the inside pocket of his uniform. Thomas had brought those two pictures on the front, a woman's face in order to cover one of a young man, elegant, with deep brown eyes and straight brown hair. Someone had written on the corner with an elegant handwriting and a secure stroke _You are loved. Philip._  Someone Thomas had never spoken about.  _You are loved…_

Andrew put back everything in the box. They were only ghosts. They  matter no more. Present time mattered. And Thomas’s present time belonged to him.

He ran his hand over his face several times, as if trying to clear his head. They were just deceiving? The idea of taking the child with them was really the madness that seemed? Would be enough understanding and affection? There would be affection? Or they would remain strangers, forced to live under the same roof by the absurd request of a dying man who perhaps was touched in his head in the last days? Sighing, he got up and went to make breakfast. It would have been a long day, and there was still so much to do. He had to take something for the bathroom and  the bedroom:  soap, towels, a bedspread with more vibrant colors, new sheets, perhaps some print with flowers to hang on the walls. And then there was to empty the closet and the shelves of dresser and nightstand. And a lamp near the bed, absolutely a lamp near the bed ...

 

Milford house was quiet and peaceful. The thick carpets muffled any noise, as well as the heavy curtains.

Thomas was standing straight in front of the window and stared, for about ten minutes, a slender little figure, dressed in black, leaning over a table in the porch, the long soft black hair wrapped with a blue ribbon, the expression attentive and focused on the sheet in front of her.

"She loves to draw. She has a drawing pad she takes always with her, full of sketches, and I must admit she  is very talented" Mr. Milford approached him, handing some documents. "Here. From now on you are the legal guardian of our little girl. And there is…” He searched in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a letter “This one.  Your  cousin asked me to give it to you only if you had agreed to take care of Beatrix".

Thomas looked absentmindedly  while grabbing the documents "Thank you... The little girl, she's ..."

"She is the spitting image of her father ... A Barrow, I guess!"

"Definitely a Barrow"

From the garden came, muffled, the laughter and chatter of Milford’ daughters. Andrew for a moment wondered why Beatrix wasn’t playing with them."Let’s get to know her then!"

The lawyer looked puzzled "I didn’t expect to see you too, Mr. Parker"

Thomas made a frozen smile "He drove me here ... I don’t know how to drive."

Milford nodded a few times sympathetically “I see”.

Actually Thomas had learned it in 1915, driving  ambulances in the medical  corps, he teached to a reluctant Andrew and he had driven the Bentley that brought them there, parking it on Belgrave Square, but the lawyer seemed satisfied with the explanation and if he had any doubt he didn’t show it.

"Surely. I‘ll have her call right now. Wait here, please" The man went out for a few seconds.Thomas, after a moment, saw someone who looked like a housekeeper approaching  the figure bent over the sheets, inviting the girl to tidy up everything and follow her. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened. The little girl came into the room with her head bowed and eyes lowered. Thomas felt the desperate need for a cigarette, even though he knew it was inappropriate just the idea of light one.

He approached the girl, leaning down slightly in an attempt to look into her eyes.

Milford put a hand on her shoulder "Beatrix, this is Mr. Barrow. As I explained, he will be your legal guardian from now on"

The girl made a small but graceful bow "Pleased to meet you"

"Hi Beatrix, I'm Uncle Thomas. Thomas, if you prefer" He tried to smile while he tolked, leaning even more "Your father asked me to take care of you. You come to live with me"

The girl raised the head showing clear blue eyes and stared at him with interest.

"Do you have a wife?"

Thomas bit his lower lip.  _Great start ..._  "No. I'm not married"

"I see. Do you have children?"

The man sighed before answering, clenching his fists. He was fretting a bit. Maybe the whole thing  was a mistake!

"I don’t have kids. I'm sorry, I understand that you want the warmth of a family ... "

"Very well. I’ll come. Can I get my stuff? Can we go?"

Thomas, confused,  looked at the lawyer, then at the girl again "Of course sweety, we can leave whenever you want!"

She brought her slender arms up around his neck. Thomas, astonished, was forced to return the hug. After a bit he gently turned away to look at her properly.

Beatrix’s eyes were moist, but she held back proudly the tears "My dad used to call me that... You're not my dad, aren’t you?"

The answer was illogical and Thomas hugged her again "No darling, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but I will try to take care of you, I promise "

Andrew then stepped timidly forward, no one remembering him.

"Hi Bea, I'm Andrew" The girl smiled at him "This is for you"

He handed her a soft felt doll, with a painted  face and soft curly wool hair. 

Beatrix grabbed the gift vehemently "Thank you, thank you. They have lost the trunk with all my toys on the ship..."  She pierced Milford with a stern look hugging the doll.

The lawyer cleared his throat, coughing "Very well. I warn the housekeeper to bring your luggage at the door. I'm glad you've found a suitable accommodation and it’s all turned out for the best, Miss Beatrix"

The girl stared at him, eyes narrowed "I don’t doubt that, Mr. Milford. Thank you for going beyond your obligations. Please convey my gratitude to Mrs Milford and to your daugthers"

"Certainly!"

Milford accompanied them to the door and greeted cordially, visibly relieved as they walked towards the car, Bea with the doll and the drawing pad, Thomas and Andy each one carrying a couple of suitcases.

“What’s the matter?”

Beatrix sat in the back seat while they were setting the luggage. "None. Mr Milford is a kind man. His wife and his daughters not at all, neither men nor kind, I mean. Can we go home now?"

Thomas and Andrew answered practically togheter "Yes. Let's go”.


	17. Chapter 17

"This will be my room?" Beatrix looked at the walls and at the brass headboard, peeked in the bathroom and then went to the window "From here I can see the garden. It’s so green, a shade so intense and… thick!”

"India is very different, isn’t it?" Andrew had placed the bags on the bed and was trying to open one.

"I do not know... I have only been in Bombay. Indeed, yes, it’s different. There is much more yellow and brown. It’s warmer, I mean..." She smoothed her dress nervously "During the trip to London we had to buy a coat and winter clothes, and a pair of booties and also gloves. Mrs. Milford was very angry. I heard them arguing over this" Bea sat on the chair by the window, her hands lying in her lap, lips tightened.

Andrew went beside her, grabbed the footrest and sat down. In this way they were face to face "Listen darling: we have provided to repay Mr. Milford. His wife doesn’t have anything to complain about anymore. You don’t have to worry about these things. Here you are at home. Nobody will reproach you anymore about what spends on you. We... Thomas will take care of everything. Just like your father"

The young face was frowning "But how am I ever to repay him?  Will I have to find me a job?"

Andrew stiffened, angry "A job? Repay? Beatrix Barrow you will end the school, go to college and if you want even at the University, and then decide to work or marry or travel or do whatever you want. Until then we take care of you, me and Thomas!"

Bea stared at him in disbelief "Really?"

"Really!" Andrew took her hands, and was surprised by how small they were in his. Tenderness squeezed his heart "Who did tell you all this nonsense?"

The girl pondered a moment, as though she was deciding whether to trust him or not. When she finally spoke her voice was a whisper "All of them kept telling me, since dad got sick ... Our housekeeper, the woman who took care of me in the journey from Bombay to London, even Milford’s daughters. They told me that I could stop to be stuck-up, because I was no longer a little princess ... I am not stuck-up! "

"I know darling, I know. From now on, if someone tells you these things, if you have any doubt, you must come to me or Thomas, it’s all right? "

Bea nodded, facial features more relaxed, although the tense posture revealed that she was not yet fully convinced "But are you our butler?"

Andrew on the spot chuckled, but almost immediately was hit by the weight of responsability. That was an obstacle to overcome somehow "No, Bea. I’m not a butler. We are friends, Thomas and I, and we are partners in business. We manage a restaurant not far from here, we will take you to see it. And we live in this house together, you know, to split the cost of the rental, the cleaning and the rest ... " He made a vague gesture with his hand.

The little girl thought for a moment, then looked at him with interrogatory expression "Just like Holmes and Watson"  

 _No, like Romeo and Juliet..._   "Yes, like Watson and Holmes. But you should not read that kind of books! Can you sleep at night then?" _I'll have to hide my collection of crime novels..._

"Dad let me read them..." Bea got an innocent face.

Andrew raised an eyebrow "We'll see. I'll talk to your uncle"

"And will you continue to stay here? With us? Even now that I'm here? "

"Sure. We will have to make a few small changes here and there but yes, I will continue to live with Thomas and with you"

Beatrix smiled, a lot more relaxed "Do you love Uncle Thomas?"

It seemed to Andrew that the tongue had become suddenly sandpaper and ears began to buzzed. He breathed deeply. Bea was a 12 year old girl, what were both love and affection for her? What could she understand? What words should be used?

"Of course we love each other. Thomas and I are friends, best friends" _Yes, Winnie Pooh and Christopher Robin! Oh God!_   "And we always try to help each other"

Bea nodded serious "Like me and Mary-Beth. We promised that we will write and when we grow up she will come here, in London, and then we will live together!"

"Yes darling, like you and Mary-Beth" _Whoever is this Mary-Beth!_

Bea looked around again "I like the color on the walls. Prussian blue is one of my favorite colors" she turned to show the ribbon that bound her hair.

"Prussian? Is there not only one blue? "

She looked at him as if he was a heretic "Of course not! There is a lot of them! Cobalt blue, ultramarine blue, peacock blue, royal blue, dark blue ... There are dozens of shades of blue!"

"I see ... Do you paint?"

"Oh, it's my favorite thing in the world. Draw and paint." She got up and picked up a folder full of sheets. She opened it and it was as if she opened the door to another world: watercolor landscapes small but bright; sketches quick and vivid of people, animals, buildings, cars, flowers. In some of them Andrew recognized Milford beside what appeared to be his wife, portrayed with wolfish sharp teeth, and two plump girls with pigs ears and tails. Some drawings had notes and thick dense patches of color near them "What are these?"

"Notes to remember the colors they had when I drew. Sometimes I use them for an oil painting or more often for a watercolor. May I hang something on the wall?"

"Yes, sure. Just leave everything tidy and in order to allow to clean easily" Andrew smiled: he spoke just like his mother now. "And those? When have you made them?" On one of the sheets Thomas’s profile was sketched several times, from different angles.

"In the car! I had a good view from the back seat"

Andrew looked admired "Impressive. You are really good. Well, I'm going to see what Thomas is doing with our dinner. Do you need a hand with your stuff? "

"No, thank you. I made and unmade them so many times ... but I really hope this is the last” She smiled and then began to arrange her clothes, humming.

Andrew left the room and closed the door gently. When he turned toward the stairs he stood before Thomas, who was there, leaning a shoulder against the wall, arms folded, an unreadable expression on his face.  
Andrew took a step back "Damn it! You scared me!"

"Really? Well, you scared me too! Watson and Holmes eh?"

"Sshhh! Keep your voice low. How long you been here?"

"Enough to desire to strangle Mrs. Milford!"

"Do you agree with me? I mean, maybe I said something wrong... "

"No, my best friend" He was laughing "you said nothing that I don’t think myself, better than I would" He tightened his hand tenderly, lacing their fingers. Andrew leaned against him, putting lips to his forehead for a moment, then stepped away, shy due to the proximity of the girl, even behind a closed door.

Thomas knocked and then said "Bea, sweetie, wash your hands and come downstairs. Dinner is ready!"

"Yes, uncle. I’m coming!"

The dinner was quiet. Beatrix was tired and bewildered. She ate little and talked less. Eventually asked permission to go to her room. When Thomas went to control, a half hour later, he found her sound asleep. He turned off the light and settled the blankets.

He fell in the living room and sat down next to Andrew "It's the first time I tuck a kid in..."

"It isn’t unpleasant, is it?"

"No" He was carrying the letter that the lawyer had given him. He turned it in his fingers hesitating.  
"It’s from Rufus. I don’t... Read it for me. Please. I cannot do it" He handed him the letter, his gaze gray and sad.

The writing was neat and legible though rather crabbed, there were several corrections and Andrew cannot read all the words, but he did his best.

"Dear Thomas, friend and brother, let me call you in this way once more. If you read these lines Bea is with you. I am sure that Bea will be with you, because I know you. You probably wondered why to entrust my daughter to you of all, instead of asking to my friends or colleagues who live here. First I want she to grow at home, in England. This land is beautiful but harsh and terrible, with absurd rules and restrictions.

Then I want she to grow up free, to think with her head, without prejudice or constrains, to not bow down to anyone. I want her to understand life belongs to her alone, and no one will ever tell her how to live.

I know I can trust you with this. Beatrix has a strong character, you have already understood, but also because of me, she is hungry for love and approval. When Elaine died I was... - I'm sorry I can’t figure out what this word is - and devastated by the pain,  not able to take care of her. And now I have to leave her again" Andrew paused a moment, overwhelmed. "I wish things were different.  
Teach her not to surrender, not to betray herself not even for love.

Especially don’t let her forget us. Talk about us, me and her mother, we who loved her more than anything in the world. Tell her about Elaine, how beautiful and clever and brave and virtuous she was.

Tell her the truth, when she will grow up and will understand. There is no one else I can ask and you are the only man I can trust to do it. One day maybe she will want to know the people who have rejected us and then her, too, but if she will know the truth she will not have trouble dealing with their lies.

You have all my confidence and my undying gratitude Thomas, my love you have always had. Let me hug you one last time. Your grateful Rufus"

Andrew had read slowly, with some uncertainty in his voice and now stood there, holding the letter, watching Thomas beside him, elbows resting on his knees. He put a hand on his shoulder, stroking it with small circular movements, in silence.

"I’ll do what Rufus wanted"

"You would have done it anyway"

"Yes, but now I know this is exactly what he would have wanted"

"Thomas ... We will do it together. This thing. To raise Beatrix. I want to do it with you "

"Andrew this is ...  a lifetime commitment"

"Eh eh, I thought that I was already engaged for life"

"No, not with me, luv." He stroked his face tenderly "A lifetime commitment with her..."

Andrew leaned forward, resting his forehead against his companion.  
"It's late Thomas, I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. She is adorable and bratty, like you. I love her already!"

"I too, luv"

They stayed that way, leaning against each other, hands clasped, and it seemed incredible to Thomas that there has ever been a time when he had felt to belong to no one.


	18. Chapter 18

The heat was unbearable, devastating. Andrew could not think of anything else, nothing existed except the heat. It propagated from the inside of his thighs to the stomach, to the heart, spreading everywhere, until even the fingertips became burning and Andrew wondered why the things he touched not caught fire instantly. Then, through the heat, crept that tremendous desire, painful, which he felt he had to feed, satisfy, appease or he would go mad. Contact, he needed the contact of skin, mouth, tongue, fingers. He needed to satisfy that desire that occupied all his thoughts, every fiber of his body, even his viscera, especially his viscera: he knew nothing else would give him peace, in no other way time would start to flow again and his  eyes would return to see anything other than Thomas.

"Andrew, love, are you all right?" But he could no longer even speak, never. Nods, grunts, hand pressure against the hip  or shoulder, but to articulate words was  impossible. Later, perhaps, if the earth had stopped spinning so fast and his heart had started to beat at a human rhythm, he could talk.

Thomas, remaining between his legs, had placed on his knees, leaning toward him, his lips red and swollen. Andrew skipped a beat or two: to see him like this, lost, without inhibitions, without control, completely abandoned, was shocking. 

Thomas held out the palm of his hand, smiling "Lick ... well, good ... wet it luv..." then with a sensual gesture of his hip he leaned  his body into his companion, rubbing his cock against Andrew’s, holding both of them with one hand. 

Andrew's eyes widened: the feeling was so intense. Thomas had made his sex incredibly sensitive licking and sucking and biting it for an infinite time and now those prolonged and insistent caresses were driving him crazy. He began to accompany his movements, initially a little clumsy and hesitant, then with increasing boldness. Andrew had the heart in his throat. An unpleasant thought came into his head, but he sent it  straight back, more interested in what he had in front of him. 

Gently he stroked Thomas’s cheek reddened, focusing on the sharp cheekbone. Casually passed his hand through Thomas’s hair, then grabbing and pulling it in a gesture of full possession. Thomas bent his neck following the movement of the hand: he smiled, his eyelids heavy, his eyes slightly clouded, as if drunk. His erection was so hard against Andrew’s it almost hurt. 

"You are so beautiful ..." Andrew stroked with his index the thick and red lips, made his way through the teeth, not without Thomas stopping him with a few bites, and began to stroke the tip of the tongue and the mouth inside. Thomas played his game and the vision of his sensual sucking cheeks made Andrew roll  his eyes.

He grabbed Thomas by the arms and made him bend forward: then kissed his lips, stroked the crack between his buttocks, found the most vulnerable spot and, bending the wrist, got inside a finger.

Thomas’s eyes became wide open  "You naughty pervert man ..." He licked the side of Andrew’s mouth and then began to rock over him again, his eyes shut, smiling, completely lost in the sensations shooting like lightning through his body.  He rubbed against Andrew’s cock every time he came forward and let penetrate deep when he went back.

He came, while Andrew got out of him slowly, causing a shudder even more intense. It took a few moments to start to breathe regularly and eventually bent to kiss him again, many small delicate kisses on his lips, "You're amazing, every time you leave me breathless"

"It’s you who takes my breath away"

But Thomas did not want to quit yet. He slipped back with his head between Andew’s legs, grabbed his cock firmly with a hand and then took it in his mouth, but this time he was not playing, he wanted him to cum: he began to lick the glans and then the whole shape, caressing the spot between anus and testicles. Eventually he swallowed up almost half of it and began to move his head back and forth. Andrew was enchanted. He reached out to stroke his face, then with the fingers searched the lips, where they met his skin, as if he needed to touch to believe what he was seeing. After a few minutes he felt himself lost in an intense orgasm and began to gasp, unable to control himself.

"Thomas, Thomas, Thomas" _THOMAS!_

"Luv yes, yes, I know"

"No, you don’t, you cannot!"

Thomas stood above him straightening his back, running the tongue over his lips. "Your taste is so good ..."

Andrew forgot how to breathe "You are beautiful, like an enchanted creature, a mythical snake, a basilisk, a mermaid ... Your lips are sinful"

"Yes, and you like it ... but you are a bit touched in the head, do you know? A mermaid…" Thomas grinned and grabbing one of the shirts wiped both of them somehow, then crouched next to Andy,  back against  chest.  "I love you"He tookAndrew’s arm and put it around him.

"I love you too" Andrew held him, tenderly stroking his hair, his heart beating like a drum at a frantic pace.

Thomas’s  change was still upsetting for him. It had been over two years now but he could not get used yet. Since his returning from France, Thomas hadn’t had any problem, no uncertainty, no shame. Sex and love between them was now as Andrew had always hoped. No longer that sense of frustration, inadequacy, because despite all Thomas’s assurances, Andrew during all those years had felt somehow always half accepted, never really wanted. At first he was so in love he didn’t even mind.

So what if Thomas had never excited when he went to his room, when they kissed, as he embraced him? What did it matter that he should always patiently caress his cock, prepare him and then  any trifle could make vanish his excitement? Thomas was there, that beautiful naked body against his, and his kisses and caresses and the intoxicating scent of his skin and his sweet look, just for him. But then with each passing month the need to be desired had become urgent, taking a lot out of him and Andrew had begun to consider how to move forward, to overcome that poisonous obstacle.

Maybe go away from Downton could be a solution. The anxiety of being caught, the bed too tight and uncomfortable, Carson always keeping an eye on them, Molesley’s involuntary jokes and Mrs Patmore’s definitely voluntary, the worried look of the Bates and Mrs. Hughes: find peace and calm for them in that place would have been impossible.

So he did everything to tear him from  that claustrophobic place. But even that turned out useless. 

Maybe that’s just how Thomas was, and he had only to accept it. If for him sex was so important, it didn’t mean the same for Thomas. Yet despite trying to get over it, he felt every time anxiety and anger. He wanted to be desired, wanted Thomas whispering those damn three words more than anything in the world,  he wanted to be loved, he wanted to be looked with passion, with lust.

From the first moment he saw Thomas with Jimmy Kent reality became clear in front of him like a punch in the face. For all those years he had been only a replacement, a palliative. It was clear that Thomas knew what passion was and how to express it. But not with him obviously. He had left for Deauville sure  it was all gone. He was  completely destroyed. He could not eat or talk. He could not believe he was wrong that far, that his beloved Thomas, after all these years, could do this to him. He was taking away from him everything: love, home, job, hope, will to live.

Mitchell and his wife didn’t know what to do.

"Andrew, what's going on? Do you want me to call Thomas?"

A dismissive shrug.

"Want to go back to London? Harriet says that there's a woman, is it so? "

"Something like that Arthur, yes"

"Eh, cherchez la femme! It’s always a problem of love ..."

"Yeah ..."

"But  don’t despair, dear fellow,  you'll see, it  should pass, there’s a lot of fish in the sea"

"Yes"

"You leave to forget her? You did well. France is the right place! En France il ya les plus belles femmes du monde! You’ll get over her soon "

"Sure"

"Andrew are you listening?"

"Absolutely ..." From the terrace the ocean was a horizon empty as his heart.

Then suddenly Thomas asked him to come back. And nothing was the same again. Jimmy Kent was not really gone: sometimes arrived a letter from him but Thomas looked distracted and a few times he even forgot to answer, remembering it after a few weeks and if  Jimmy came to the Skylon Thomas greeted him in passing and then sent Peter or Nick to serve him.

"Thomas?"

"Yes, luv? " Thomas got up to get lighter and cigarettes, lying then again next to Andrew, the ashtray resting on  his belly.

"Careful not to burn yourself"

"Yes luv"

"Did you sleep with him?"

Thomas took a look dull "With who?"  _With who?_

"With  Jimmy ..." Andrew had spoken with a quiet voice, as if he was asking if he wanted potatoes or peas for lunch.

"Jimmy? Why? I don’t see Jimmy for a lifetime! I swear Andrew. If someone told you ... If you thought so ... Damn! " He jumped up and the ashtray had fallen rolling under the chair.

"Take it easy! I did not accuse you of anything! I was talking about when I was in France! "

Thomas looked dumbstruck  while trying to shake off the ashes "Are you joking? When you were in France? For God’s sake, it's been years, why are you thinking about it now? " He looked at him "No, you are not joking, obviously... " Thomas went around the bed, sat on the edge and hugged him "What's going on Andrew? You wouldn’t know it then, and you ask me now? What's the matter? "

"There is no problem. I ... I just want to understand. You're so different from... how you were before. You've changed so much. You're so aggressive ... and ... you have no problem making love and ..."

Thomas took his face in his hands. He smiled, "And do you mind?"

"No, no, of course not. Of course not! Damn that's what I always wanted, but I don’t understand ... and for a long time I was afraid of not bear a truth that could hurt me ... "

"And now you feel confident enough?"

"Yes. I think so ... "

Thomas sighed "Andrew, I love you. I don’t tell it enough. And no, I did not sleep with Jimmy. I wanted, because at that time I was very confused, but he didn’t want me. "

"Did you want?" Andy had made a grimace with his mouth, as if to swallow something indigested.

"Yes. No. It 's more complicated than that. For a long time, too long, I thought I was nothing. If I look back I don’t know how I resisted all those years before I met you ... my family, then the people I met, everyone has always tried to make me believe that I was nothing, that I didn’t deserve love"   He was searching the pack of cigarettes again "Thomas is vain, oily, sly, he blackmails, he schemes, he is evil ... " he lit one with some difficulty "He doesn’t want to belong to us, it is useless to spend time with him…  I've always been one it was not worth wasting time on. Everyone could fool me, fool me yes, make fun of my feelings and I could not say anything, the more I loved them the more I could not say anything, because the way I love sucks, it’s unworthy "

"Thomas ..." Andrew looked at him seriously, a bitter expression on his face.

"I know that is not true, I know. But it took years to believe it through,  and all your love. When I saw Jimmy, I don’t know, it was like ... Oh damn ... He was the one who turned me down the most! I wanted him to look at me differently, to see that a man like me can have a life, be happy, be ... be ... "

"Be loved Thomas?" he could see the disappointment in Andy’s voice.

"Yes ... I'm sorry Andrew. Indeed I don’t want anybody’s love except yours. The only one I trust is you "

"The only one who was daft enough to run after you"

"No, no it's not true. I've always loved you Andrew, since I first saw you in the servant's hall in London and you said you wanted to be a footman"

"You have got to be brave these days"

"What?"

"You said me so...  you have got to be brave these days... "

"Really? I was the coward instead.  I was so afraid Andrew, luv, so afraid to make another mistake, to deceive myself again ... But fear eventually could not do anything against what I felt" Thomas squeezes his hand firmly.

"Forgive me, but I still don’t understand what is changed"

"I have changed. I always thought it was my fault, that Jimmy did not love me because I was wrong, my love was wrong, my life was all a huge mistake. But it is not so. It has never been so. There is no merit  to be loved or guilt to be not. It happens and that's it.

Jimmy is just a guy who likes to be the center of attention, like a child. And as a child he forget you when you're not in his view. I cannot make my life dependent on his approval. I do not want to. I do not want my life to depend on the approval of anyone, I did it for over thirty years and has been a disaster. Now I want to do only what is right for me and that is to love you and take care of Beatrix, and moving forward our restaurant "

"And you didn’t sleep with him, did you?"

The pillow hit him on the face unexpectedly "Ouch!"

"You moron! No, I didn’t sleep with him. He did not want and I didn’t feel like doing it, and you know why I didn’t? Because he hasn’t  your smell, he don’t laugh like you, he hasn’t your sweet eyes "

"And he is  lower than eight inches, and his dick is smaller!"

"He  is not so short  and I haven’t checked the rest, but I think it's unlikely that he exceed you in something..." Thomas hit him again with the pillow "Seriously ... It was wrong. It was all wrong. He wasn’t you and I wanted you. I want you. And I’ll not ask forgiveness enough to be so stupid to almost  losing you only to please my foolish desire to be admired and praised and flattered. The only excuse I can have is that I have lived for so long trying to hide what I felt that in the end I could not understand myself"

Andrew leaned over to kiss him tenderly. "Let's prepare ourselves now. I have to do some things before going to work"

"And I have to go get Bea at school, be sure she eat properly  and check that she has done her homework. When Abigail arrives I  join you at work. "

"Did the school mistress say something yesterday?"

"Nothing important. It's all right. Bea starts with a six-month delay, but it seems that she is far ahead of the schedule they follow here in England. She is clever " He took clean towels from the closet  "And thanks to your valuable advices  the relationship with her classmates is going well…"

Andrew turned purple "I ... I explained her only how to look more friendly! We worked a bit on the tone of voice and on the fact she not always have to say anything she thinks. Anyway, the caricatures Bea makes of the teachers made her very popular ... "

"Yeah" Thomas smiled and ran a hand through his curls, with tenderness. "It’s lucky  that in addition to being a Barrow she is also a Parker, Andrew. I really think so"

“Thomas, you daft! Don’t say that nonsense” But he was radiant.  

 


	19. Chapter 19

The day was lovely. A slight breeze stirred the trees creating a dance of shimmering green reflections and the sky was blue like a Wedgwood porcelain.

The kids sometimes approached to take some candy, immediately running back to play, while among the adults someone had decided to take a walk and others had organised a game of cricket. Thomas had been sitting at the table next to Daisy that rocked the little party boy to sleep.

"Thanks for the tablecloths, dishes and everything. The table was beautiful! "

"Don’t  mention it, it’s been a pleasure. And bringing supplies of the restaurant was Andrew’s idea. He thought  it was going to take something special for the christening of this little prince" Thomas looked at the sleeping child with tenderness: a tuft of dark hair was sticking out of his candid bonnet. "He is really a beautiful baby Daisy, you did good!" He smiled warmly. The childbirth was very difficult and her face was still worn and cheeks sunken, although it’s been six months now.

"Yes. I'm very, very lucky Thomas. Herbie is a wonderful man and a wonderful father" She bowed her head, overwhelmed by the shyness. She has become more self-confident over the years but sometimes the excitement could still make her blush. 

Thomas saw her for a moment in the kitchen of Downton, with an ugly pink dress and fingernails filthy with ash. "I like this dress, it's a nice point of purple, it brings out the color of your eyes. Not like those absurd little dresses you usually wear... "

"Thank you so much! Kind and gentle as ever!"

Mrs. Patmore, who was sitting a bit further, near Mrs. Carson, watching the cricketers, turned to them "Do not tease her, Mr. Barrow"

Thomas rolled his eyes "Oh for God's sake, Mrs. Patmore!" They both laughed, trying to stifle the laughter with the towels to avoid waking the baby.

"They never change… They never trust me!"

"Don’t be daft. Mr. Carson had a stroke when you said him that you left. He was sure you would have taken his place"

"Really? Well, he might have told me! Instead the only thing he said me was that my egoistic behavior would cause serious problems in organizing the birthday party of His Lordship" Thomas tried to make the typical expression of his years at Downton, but what came out was just a funny face.

Daisy laughed "Look at you, you can no longer even pout!"

The man blushed and his face relaxed again "Blame Bea! And Andrew ... "

"Well, more than a blame it seems a merit! You were really unbearable, do you know?" She reached for a biscuit and Thomas grabbed the little tray and placed it next to her. Daisy ate a couple before finding the courage to add "I hated the whole matter about Mr Bates..." She smiled, but her tone was of ill-concealed reproach.

Thomas looked down and started to play with one of the spoons, without realizing "I'm sorry. I mean it. I've done  things in the past I'm not very proud of"

Daisy came close, conspiratorially "What were you doing with all those bottles of wine? Did you drink them along with O'Brien?"

Thomas laughed so loud, even while Daisy hit him with the towel. "Schhh! The child! "

"Sorry, sorry. But your question! What do you think? Of course I didn’t drink them! Did you ever see me drunk? And red wine stains teeth... " He pulled himself together and poured a glass of water "I resold them... It was a difficult period for meself, I needed money ... "

Daisy's eyes widened, "Why? Gambling debts? Some bookmaker threatened you, did he? "

"What a ridiculous idea! Of course not! I ... " He remained silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Maybe after all these years Daisy deserved the truth, or at least a truth that she could understand. "I knew someone. For me they were important. I loved them. Or I thought I loved them. You know how it is when you're young... " The woman nodded, her expression more sweet. Thomas nervously ran his hand through his hair and then on his jacket. When he spoke again his voice was a whisper "The person I loved was a friend of the Crawley family..."

"An aristocrat?" Daisy looked at him with his mouth open in shock.

"Yes. We met during the London season ... They were ... so beautiful and so gentle and too much noble... I knew it was impossible between us but... I didn’t want they think I was totally worthless. I needed money ... for clothes and for the train to come to London to see them and ... and I didn’t want them to pay for me and so... " he bit his lower lip" But it was impossible. When we were alone it was amazing. But we didn’t stay always alone. I didn’t understand it. I was too young and stupid. I thought it would have worked if only we wanted it. They were wiser then me. "

"Did she dump you?"

"Sure they dumped me! I was so disappointed and angry. Obviously I was unbearable!"

"I see... "She put a small hand on his arm. Thomas could not help but notice how neat were now her rosy nails "And when did you ask me to get out? Before or after? "

"After ..."

"Why? Did you want me to lie? Did you want me to say that Mr Bates had took the bottles of wine?"

"Yes. No! Also ... More than anything I wanted someone who was by my side ... Everyone hated me, wanted to send me away ... I lost the ground under my feet. But over time I've made a habit of it!" He tried to smile but could not.

"I needed a steady job, respectable" He traced with the tip of the finger imaginary lines on the tablecloth, as if to emphasize each word "I was looking after his Lordship since Mr. Watson left, I thought that the place was mine, and instead Bates pop up from nowhere and snatch it from under my nose!" Thomas was surprised that the old resentment was still there, never completely overcome "I was in service for many years, I wanted to be something more than a footman, I was tired of not having anything ... But then the war broke out and nothing was the same as before..."

Daisy nodded his head yet "No one believed to see you again, did you know? But you came back, ringing at the front door! Mr. Carson was so angry! "

"No one was very happy"

"Well, you were gone in such a way, and then you came back and start to bully everyone from the very first day!  It's Sergeant Barrow for you" Daisy made an extraordinary imitation of Thomas, putting herself in profile, her chin raised in a  rigid posture, but even though it was really funny he could not laugh. He wondered if it was worth explaining.

"Daisy, darling ... During the war ... it was not easy. I spent almost two years in France, more than a year in the trenches. It was scary, shocking. I was afraid, ever. It was hell. Day and night there was always this constant noise... bombs, heavy artillery, whistling bullets, the cries of those who gave orders, the screams of the wounded. There was never silence, never" Thomas's face had become a mask, his eyes glazed, his jaw clenched "Then I return to Downton and find out that for all of you nothing has changed. We were dying  like cattle intended for slaughter while Carson continued to polish silver and decant wine ... and his lordship in uniform played at war in the garden!  I was angry, of course I was, and distressed. I slept very little, every time I closed my eyes I was still there, in the trenches, covered in mud and blood ... and anxiety destroyed me: I don’t know how many times I had to resist the urge to throw myself on the floor screaming every time I heard a sudden noise. Did you see the way Lang was? But I couldn’t, I didn’t want to give in, I had to fight" Thomas was clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white "And then the responsibility of the hospital, everyone’s eyes on me, ready to criticize the slightest mistake, I was always on the edge... Let's say I was under a lot of pressure. And it certainly didn’t help me to show my good side"

Daisy absently stroked the baby, who had complained in his sleep. "I'm so sorry Thomas.  I never thought how hard that must have been for you. You seemed so confident, so perfect... "

Thomas made the tiniest hint of a smile "Well that flatters me, but I have not ever felt neither safe nor perfect, far from it... Lady Sibyl was the only one kind to me, showing a bit of understanding...” Looking at the expression of great sadness on Daisy’s face, he  sighed deeply ”But it was so long ago…” He talked with a lighter vein  “Look, I'm sorry I made you lie. And I'm sorry I bullied you. However, when I brought you to the fair, it was nice. I always thought you was a sweet and nice girl... And I'm glad to see you happy now"

She smiled bashfully "Thanks Thomas. Thanks. I'm serious. And I'm happy for you  too... "

 

~~~

  

"Thomas, my boy, what are you doing here alone?"

"Oh, excuse me Mr. Mason I ..." Thomas was crying. Daisy had asked him to go and get a jug of water in the kitchen and he was filling it looking out the window. At that moment he was reminded of a summer afternoon many years ago. William had spoken of the large window, how, as a child, he squinted his eyes to see the light refracted against the thick glasses in a thousand different colors, like a giant kaleidoscope. Thomas had said nothing at that time. He was about to enlist and was sad and couldn’t find a lot of fun to bossy the guy, who was also nice in his own way.

"I ... I'm sorry ... I was thinking about William and ... I'm sorry"

"I rather enjoy that someone remembers him. That his memory does not go out with me. You two were friends?"

Thomas felt terribly guilty "No, not truly. I could... I should have helped him more"

"But you were just a boy yourself"

"Oh I was jealous, you know? He had a house to miss, and a mother and a father who loved him, who worried about his future. I... I didn’t have anything. When my mother died they didn’t even write to me. I didn’t ... I was only envious. If it had been different we could have been friends. He was really a good guy. He didn’t deserve to die. I... I deserved to die... I didn’t have anyone, no one would miss me..." Thomas was sobbing, he could not restrain himself, overwhelmed by all the tension and anger built up talking to Daisy.

Mr. Mason put his arm around Thomas’s shoulders affectionately "None of you deserved to die, my boy. None"

"He could stay here... he was invalided! But he has always been daft! A white knight. He could stay here, with Daisy, and live. Instead, he chose to die"

"He didn’t choose to die Thomas, he chose to protect what he loved. He chose this place, chose Daisy, chose his family. What would have happened to us if each of you that went to fight hadn’t made the same choice? If you really didn’t have anything to fight for, it was you  that wouldn’t have to go, Thomas" The old man had given him a gentle pat on the back "But now it seems that things are different, isn’t it?" From outside Bea’s laughter came up there. Andrew was trying to catch her but he couldn’t.

"Yes, things now are different"

Mr. Mason took the jug from his trembling hands "Stay a little here my boy, I'll take this at the table"

"Thanks. For everything."

"There's nothing to thank for. Nothing"

 

 ~~~

 

"John don’t eat the ants, I see you, you know?" Anna was resting, sitting on a blanket next to Phyllis, while little Mary slept curled up between them.

Beatrix, flushed and disheveled, sat down next to the two women after picking up  her sketchbook.

"Bea, darling, is it all right?"

"Yes Aunt Phyllis, but I’m tired of playing! Andrew always makes me go to catch the ball!"

Phyllis approached her and began to arrange her hair "Wait, you have leaves entangled, and also a few sprigs..." It took several minutes, but in the end the result was satisfactory "There, now you're decent again"

"Thanks Aunt!" She immediately began to draw, block resting on his knees, tongue between her lips.

"How's Mrs. Parker?"

Anna looked up astonished "Andy got married? I didn’t know anything!"

Phyllis and Bea laughed. The maid saw "No, Anna, not Mrs. Andy Parker!" and Bea added "Grandma Parker is amazing! She comes to visit every Saturday and we are making a beautiful patchwork quilt for Andrew! I chose fabrics and colors and I prepared the design and she is sewing it" She bit her lip "Don’t tell him anything though, ‘cause it's a surprise!"

"Sure, honey, we are not gonna tell him anything, hand on heart!" Phyllis put her hand on her chest while Beatrix looked at Anna suspiciously. The woman said immediately "I won’t tell him, either!"

Sure that the secret was safe, Bea went back to draw.

Andrew's mother had shown up at their house one Sunday a few months earlier, rigid and stiff, ready to take away Andrew by force if necessary. While, tight-lipped, she explained to his son that he had to go home and put an end to this absurd behavior, certainly caused by the bad influence of that man she didn’t even want to mention, Bea rushed into the living room holding carefully in the folds of the skirt a little hedgehog "Look what I found, Uncle Andrew! It’s cute, isn’t it? Can we keep him? Uncle Thomas says no…"

Mrs. Wilhelmina Davenport married Parker had had from God six children and eight grandchildren, all male, all beloved, but what she really wanted was a girl.  She looked at Beatrix and thought that she didn’t care anything about what the neighbors believe, didn’t care that his son was living with a man, as a matter of fact gorgeous and smart even if a bit snooty, with which, however, Andy seemed to be very happy, she didn’t care anything at all if she could finally have someone to talk about embroidery, crinolines, perfumes and hair curling irons.

"But it’s lovely! Say hello to your Grandma, dear! Come close to me. What's your name, darling, how old are you? At school it's all right? But this hair ribbon is wonderful!"

It just so happens that Bea had never had anything even close to a grandmother, knowing from the other children about the existence of this wonderful creature, a dispenser of candy, coins, woolen mufflers and comfort, and obviously she wanted one.

And so Thomas Barrow, coming into the living room behind Bea in a vain attempt to block her, found himself suddenly with  a mother-in-law, without ever wanting one.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

It had been raining for most of the afternoon. Thomas, sitting on the couch, was carefully examining a scheme in the latest issue of the Horological Journal while Beatrix, bent over the desk in front of the window, finished homework. The room was silent: the only sound was the rain and the comforting ticking of the grandfather clock. After half an hour she got up, stretched lazily and then sat down on the couch, snuggling next to Thomas, her head resting against his arm. The man stiffened, took a deep breath and finally relaxed again and bent down to kiss her dark hair. By the time he was used to Bea’s affectionate behavior towards him, but it was yet not easy.

_"Thomas, you can’t be stiffer than a  scarecrow when the kid hugs you or holds your hand"  there was tenderness in Andrew’s gaze, but also a suggestion of sarcasm._

_"I know, but I'm just not used to this sort of thing... Pe_ _ople aren’t climbing over each other to hug me!"_

 _"Ah, this is something I will never understand!_   _If I could embrace you all the time, I would! " He turned  his words to action, putting his arms around Thomas’ neck and squeezing him against his chest._   _Thomas really liked that Andrew was taller than him, he liked how it felt to put his head against Andrew’s shoulder and the sensation to be  safe and sound._

 _"Thomas, it’s important for her._   _You are the only member of her family who is close and shows affection, and you look so much like the man who loved and raised her._   _She needs you, your love, your presence._   _She needs you to show it"_

 _"I know, luv, I know._   _I will try to do my best._   _Fortunately Bea is very understanding with his bumbling Uncle"_

 

"Uncle Thomas, let's go skating on Sunday" Beatrix had just learned to skate on ice, never having had the practical chance, and loved it. Cheeks flushed from the cold and the tip of the nose frozen, the noise of blades on ice, the fairytale landscape of the icy pond, the first bright rays of the shy winter sun. She was fourteen and skating on the surface of silver ice she  felt as a magical fairy princess.

In Thomas and Andrew’s lifes there had never been a real holiday, a vacation. When they were boys they  swam in the canals in summer and  played hockey in winter, so they didn’t see the poetry of the whole thing, but certainly they saw the fun of it.

"Sure, sweetie! Withestone Pond? Westminster? Whatever you like, darling!"

The girl clapped her hands in ecstasy "Thank you! It will be great! And what are we gonna do for Christmas? We’ll go to Aunt Daisy, like last year? "

Thomas swallowed visibly "Uh ... No treasure. This year we’ll go to Coventry, to Eddie" Thomas had said the phrase in a expressionless tone, looking straight ahead, as if even he himself didn’t believe in what he was saying.

Bea's eyes lit up "To Uncle Eddie? But it's amazing! With Grandma? "

Thomas swallowed again "Yes, with Mr. and Mrs. Parker..."

 _When Andrew had suggested it Thomas had looked at him grinning._ _Then, while laughed, the suspect Andy was not joking at all flashed through his mind freezing him "Are you serious?_ _Christmas Day to your brother with your mother, your father and ME in the same room?_ _Are y_ _ou crazy? "_

 _"Come on, honey!_ _We have been to Eddie other times, the kids love you, and his wife has never made_ _problems "A_ _ndrew had hugged him,_ _putting his chin on Thomas’ shoulder._

 _"The kids don’t love me, it's just that I taught them some tricks about cricket, and Eddie’s wife just bears us!" It wasn’t exactly the true, but Thomas wanted to complain at the time "Andrew, it’s madness._ _Me in the same room with your parents! "_

 _"Go ahead!_ _My mother now sees you every week ..." He leaned his cheek against Thomas’s "And my father knows you... "_

 _"We meet on the street once and he changed sidewalk, that’s not knowing each other!"_

_Andrew had to admit that there was some difficulty, but didn’t give up._ _"When I told them we would go with the car, he was thrilled!"_

_"Ah he sells himself short!" Thomas had used a sarcastic tone, but Andy didn’t pick on._

_"Luv, they love Bea, and they are ready to ... to sign a sort of armistice._ _It’s the best I can get and it’s not much but I need them in my life._ _I'm sorry" Andrew held him tightly._ _He was trying to choke back tears "I'm so sorry Thomas._ _I wish it was enough, enough to have you and Bea ... But the truth is that I want their affection._ _They are important to me, and there is no reason to give up on them._ _I mean…_ _It’s not like we are doing anything wrong, you and I. "_

 _"Many would disagree" Thomas sighed._ _Nobody understood Andrew better than him._ _Those damn clocks weren’t indeed a last thin thread with which he kept himself tied to his family?_ _With them_ _there was nothing to do anymore, but the Parker were good and kind people, and definitel_ _y less stubborn "All right, let's try!"_

They'd had this discussion a few days before, but Thomas had waited to let Bea know about it, as if to inform her made the resolution permanent and immutable.

"Uncle Thomas?"

"Yes?" Thomas, who had raised a moment to rekindle the fire in the fireplace, sat down beside her again, his arm around her shoulders.

Bea looked at him with her typical inquisitorial expression "Andrew will marry one day? He will marry and will go away? "

The man started to panic "Why do you ask? Did someone say something? "

"No, but I think, it's normal, isn’t it? People get married and go to live on his own. "

What a bizarre concept, normality... "Andrew has been living on his own. With us. However, no sweetie. Andrew will not go away. He wants to stay with us, with me and you. And he is happy this way. He wouldn’t be happy otherwise. Of course he can always beat his head and lose memory, as in those horrible stories the two of you like to read so much, but  except for this accident, we are stuck with him!" He tried to show his more reassuring expression  "You wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

Bea  went and got her sketchbook. She began to flip through the pages absently. Thomas looked carefully her little hands following the dark lines drawn on the sheets. Many of the sketches portrayed him and Andrew, then there was Mrs. Parker, and Phyllis, a very flattering version of Abigail that made him smile, and then Daisy with her child and Eddie’s sons as a litter of kittens, with sharp teeth and soft tails. After a while Bea looked up, continuing to caress the sheets.

"I love you all ..."

"And we all love you, darling!"

"I know. I mean, I feel it. Especially you and Andrew, but even Grandma and Aunt Phyllis and the others. When we were in Bombay we were just me and Dad. Here there are all these people who care about me, as a family"

Thomas stared puzzled "Isn’t it a good thing?"

"Uh ... It 's wonderful. But they're not my family. And you are not really my uncle… you are  my second cousin. But I think of you a bit as my dad, too ... "

Thomas held her, because he felt she was trembling and her voice had become so thin.

"Thank you Beatrix. I know it, but it's beautiful to hear you say that, believe me"

"Really? Yes, I also like to say that... "

"But what’s the matter?"

The girl's face was troubled "Why all these people love me and my family doesn’t even want to hear about me? My real grandparents and uncles and aunts ... They never wrote or called. They never came to meet me. Why? Why outsiders are so nice to me and my real relatives hate me? "

Thomas felt his heart tighten in his chest. What did he have to say? The truth, of course, as he had promised to Rufus, but it was not easy.  _Andrew where are you when I need you the most?_

"Beatrix, darling, you know why your parents have moved to India before you were born?"

Bea shook her head. It would have been a long afternoon.

Thomas told her how Rufus and Elaine had met, that his mother was unhappy and in danger and needed help and the only possible solution was to take her away. Bea was silent, her face a kaleidoscope of emotions as she listened to the story of what had happened all those years ago. Thomas glossed over the more cruel and shameful details, but he understood even so the story was not less painful for Bea.

"You think that grandma and grandpa are right?" She had been silent for a long time, thinking carefully, and then she had made the question looking him straight in the eyes.

"No sweetie. I didn’t think so at that time and I don’t  think so now. They are wrong. They are just cowards. They were scared to do what had to be done, scared to go against absurd moral conventions simply because of what people might think. Elaine did not deserve to be treated that way, and no one helped or protected her except your father. Push her to marry that man was a mistake and because they didn’t want people know about it, she would have had to pay in silence for the rest of her life” Thomas had raised his voice without meaning to. He tried to calm down “At least for sixteen years they have been happy ... " He sighed and took the sketchbook from her hands, turning the sheets "All these people love you, sweetie, because you're amazing. You don’t need to worry about the judgment of those who don’t even know you. You have nothing to fear from them. They don’t matter. They have nothing to say to you. They lost any right to be your family long ago"

Beatrix had an unreadable expression on her young face. She seemed puzzled, and angry, and somewhat tired "I have to think about it. There are many things I still don’t understand"

Thomas stroked her forehead with the tip of his finger, trying to smooth the furrow between her eyebrows "The notion of right and wrong is not in the Bible, Bea. It's not offered at  Sunday services, you don’t find it in newspapers or attending rallies and not even in the words of people you love. You have to judge on your own, honestly, not with pity but with compassion. There’s nothing  wrong with trying to understand the reasons of others, darling, but be careful looking for meaning when there is none. Keep it always in mind"

Yet that sharp gaze "Uncle Thomas?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Your father and  your sister don’t speak to you ’cause you helped Mom and Dad, do they?"

"No Bea. They don’t speak to me because they don’t accept me for who I am, cause I am different from  what they expected me to be"

Bea thought for a moment "Because you live with Andrew and you don’t want to get married either?"

"Something like that Bea. Something like that. "

At that moment  Abigail rang the doorbell and Beatrix went to open just running. When Thomas walked  down the stairs, half an hour later, he found them talking in the kitchen while making cookies.

Beatrix ran to embrace him as he pulled on his coat. "Get scarf and gloves Uncle. Abigail said it is going to snow!"

The woman, a little bit flushed, constantly with fuzzy hair, smiled greeting him with the hand white of flour "Good evening, Mr. Barrow. Yes, while I came here the first snowflakes had begun to fall. You better take the umbrella! And say hi to Nick!"

"Yes, sure " He waved a goodbye, than stroked the girl and kissed her on the forehead in passing, as he always did "Goodnight sweetie"

As he walked away down the driveway, he heard her cry out closing the door "How beautiful! We will have a White Christmas!"

 

The trip by car to Coventry had been pretty quiet. When Thomas was there  Mr. and Mrs. Parker were quite silent. Unexpectedly lunch passed without incidents. Eddie's wife had invited her sister with the husband and their daughter, a tall girl a couple of years older than Beatrix, with pale blue eyes a bit expressionless and thin blond hair. 

The cousins ate quickly and then immediately began to play with a new board game just came out, Monopoly. They liked it quite a lot.

The adults finished dinner talking about work, time, the critical situation in Italy and in Germany and how the kids grew up too fast.   Thomas and Andrew were opening another restaurant in a quieter neighborhood, a place where families could go to eat on Sundays and feast days, as the Skylon was at the beginning, and Eddie and his brother-in-law made several questions about management and organization. The ladies, however, were more interested about the eccentric customers of the Skylon. They wanted to know if Ivor Novello was as gorgeous as in the movies, if it was true that Mary Jerrold asked them to take her son Phil as sous-chef, or that Lilian Braithwaite was stingy and left no tips. Thomas shrugged and always replied that for him the customers were all the same, but Andrew liked to tell funny stories.

The sun had already set and it was a little brisk out when Thomas decided to go for a  smoke, even to recover from the stupor caused by eating a little too much roast beef and drinking a little too much wine. Wrapped in his black coat, the collar turned up, he flattened himself against the wall to get out of the chill wind, without realizing that, in the gloom of the winter evening, it was almost impossible to see him. When Eddie and his father came out, talking animatedly, Thomas nodded in greeting but the two of them kept speaking without notice him.

"Papa, calm down ..."

"It 'a disgrace! Your brother is not ashamed of anything. He brings him as...  a wife! What do you expect me to do? Do  you want I treat him as a daughter in law? Your mother must be mad!"

"It's me who invited them, and you're in my house. Andrew is happy, and for me it is enough! "

"But how can you say such a thing? It’s against nature! Two men! That’s sick! "

"Papa, they are together, they take care of each other, they are fine. I have never seen Andy so happy throughout his life, and for me that's enough! "

"Ah this story of being happy ... What a silly thing! Then do you think everyone is free to do any nefariousness as long as it makes them happy? "

"If they don’t harm anyone and don’t make themselves miserable, yes, I do. I don’t see anything wrong with it"

"God says it’s wrong, and the law!"

"Please! The priests interpret the Bible as they please and make God to say what suits them! It’s what you always told me! And as for the law, don’t tell me you are now on the parliamentarians’ side!"

Mr. Parker made a guttural sound of deep disdain.

Thomas felt the urgent need to dig a hole and hide himself. At Downton he was always eavesdropping, secretly lurking in the dark. Suddenly it occurred to him, and he wondered why.

"Papa, that’s not the problem" Eddie tried to speak in a tone kind, but firm "I don’t care if others say it’s wrong.  He is Andy. He is my brother and your son, and I look at him and I don’t see a sodomite or a pervert!" Mr. Parker gave another guttural sound. He was from behind and anyway it was too dark so Thomas could see his face or Eddie’s.

"I look at him and I see my brother, the same gentle and good boy that I grew up with, that works hard since he was fourteen helping at home without complaining or asking for anything. Whatever he does with Thomas" Other deep sounds "Whatever they do in the bedroom, he is my brother and I love him and I want things to continue this way between us!"

Eddie moved closer to Mr. Parker "Papa, it’s twenty seven years Thomas doesn’t meet his father... He tried to approach his sister a few years ago but it was useless... When his mother died they didn’t tell him... Do you want this for Andy ? Isn’t  it better to have him here with us? And then the little girl  is so sweet, Mama loves her! "

"I ... I don’t know Eddie. I'm confused... I don’t know what to think. They make gross jokes at the pub and you laugh at them, they gossip about some lavender guy and everyone makes fun, nudging. But Andy is not a stranger I don’t care about, he is not some random guy, he's my boy! I still remember when I held him in my arms for the first time ...  I remember all of you, all of my six children. Andy was always so serious and conscientious, even too much for his age, so insecure... I remember the poems performed at school, the plaster cast of his little hand, and when he caught scarlet fever and we were so scared he would die, and the worry when he went to work outside the first time ..." The old man was bent over himself, heartbroken.

"It 's always Andy! Papa, nothing has changed, nothing"

Mr. Parker gave another of those strange guttural sounds, but this time Thomas had the impression he was trying to muffle the cries.

Someone opened the door and Eddie and Mr. Parker found themselves in full light.

"Uncle Thomas?"

"No Beatrix, it’s just us"

"Ah, how strange ... Uncle came out half an hour ago to smoke ... Well, he probably went back without us knowing… Maybe he is hiding himself because he doesn’t want to play charades…” She ran back inside "No, Uncle Andrew, Thomas is not outsiiiiiiiide"

Eddie shivered "Come on Papa, let’s go inside"

"Yeah, it's freezing out here ..."

 

A couple of hours later, Mrs. Parker, Bea and Andrew slept lying down in the back seat of the Bentley, while Thomas drove on the way to London, the road empty and silent. Mr. Parker was sitting beside him.

"Luckily it isn’t snowing"

Thomas turned in surprise. The man had not said a word to him all day. "Yeah. It’s better this way. The road is not even icy"

"It’s still early. In a few hours it will become a patch of ice, as the temperature drops... "

"Yeah ..."

" Is it  really twenty seven years you don’t see your relatives?"

Thomas startled, but it would have been ridiculous to pretend to not understand  "Yes, Mr Parker"

"Not even before you  leaved for the front?"

"Yes Mr. Parker"

"Your father is a fool"

"Yes, Mr. Parker. I think so, too"

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

Beatrix discovered some things the year of her 16th birthday. They didn’t happen all in a way. Sometimes the revelations were unexpected, like a slap in the face, and left Bea dizzy and dismayed. Sometimes they were like a thin smokescreen, as if the answer had always been there, in front of her, but only at that moment she had become capable to  clearly see the edges. Other times it was like  touching the flame of a candle only to see if really it would have burnt as everyone said. Some discovery was pleasant, someone else painful but all useful and needed.

 

Eddie’s first-born son, Montgomery, started working as an apprentice mechanic in a machine shop in London and moved to live with Mr. and Mrs. Parker. The boy offered more and more often to accompany grandma, after spending more than  a quarter of an hour patiently taking off from under his fingernails the opaque and dense motor oil. Sometimes he stayed for a tea, sipping it basically without saying a word, other times he apologized for having errands to run but every time he stared intensely at Bea, his expression a bit stupid, his hat in his calloused hands and a smile full of bravery. 

Because he had became a tall guy and he had soft, dark, curly hair and the downwards, sweet eyes of the Parkers, when Monty passed a note, in which he had written, in a bit clumsy writing, a day, a time and a place near home, Bea didn’t hesitate for a second. She said she went out to buy some books with a school friend and, heart pounding, she went on her first date.

They met in that way three or four times , walking, watching the shops and chatting about things like the weather and Grandma Parker’s cinnamon biscuits, but every time Monty came closest, every time he  lingered a bit longer taking her hands, until one afternoon he asked if she wanted to take a stroll to St. James Park and next to the rhododendron bush he gave Bea her first kiss.

At first, when the boy pressed awkwardly his lips against her, Beatrix was a little disappointed: her friends spoke always about kissing and even adults gave so much importance to the gesture, even in books and pictures and art, so she had expected something completely different. If it was only that, she thought with a pouty expression, it was widely overestimated.

But it was starting to get dark, the streetlights had not yet turned on and in the twilight Monty found the courage to hold the girl with one hand and caress her face with the other,  inviting silently to open her beautiful, red and full lips, so much like Thomas’s.

Bea felt like an electric shock, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, mirroring the movements of her clumsy but determined companion. When the kiss became wet and deep Bea discovered parts of herself she didn’t know to have and while coming back home, shaking knees and light-headed, she realized that something had changed inside of her, and it was impossible to really go back.

 

Thomas was reading the post. He asked a question to Beatrix, who sat in the bow window, staring out at the street. He received no response. Again she wasn’t listening "Bea, darling ..."

Finally, the girl turned her head. She was often absent and thoughtful at that time, and even now she looked at him blankly "What?"

"Phyllis. She is in London for the season. With the Crowley’s. I asked you if you want to go to see her tomorrow"

"Ah, yes, sure! Of course I want to see Aunt Phyllis!"

Thomas got up from the table and sat down on the window seat next to her. "Bea, there's something bothering you? Lately you're so thoughtful, and distracted... "

"No. I'm not worried ... It's all right.  It’s ...  Growing up  is not exactly what I expected"

"Growing up?"

"Yes. Growing up. It's complicated. And confused. It 's like someone who answers to your questions with other questions "

"Yes. I guess I remember something like that, even though it was so long ago" Thomas smiled. A warm and affectionate smile. "Partly, this uncertainty will remain, but by the time you’ll  find your own way, choosing a path and trying to keep it. I mean, it’s as to trek through the mountains: the way seems clearly traced, but sometimes snow or rain can erase part of it, or it  seems safe and instead it's slippery.” Thomas smiled again “To find a good travel companion can be very useful"

"I dunno…"

"What?"

"I dunno if I’ll ever find anyone..."

"Have those doubts something to do with the fact Montgomery Parker come no more here for tea?"

Bea blushed instantly.

"Your friend Gwendolyn called yesterday. She wanted to know how you are because the both of you didn’t meet for a few weeks. It 's funny: I thought you met her every Thursday... "

Thomas didn’t believe that Bea could blush even more, but her high and sharp cheekbones had become literally purple  "Sweetie, I don’t want to scold you. I trust you. If you don't want to talk about it, there is no problem "

"It's not that I don’t want. I don’t know what to say. My mind is so confused. Monty is sweet, and cute, and so tall ... But he is also so dull! It's not much fun to talk with him. No sense of humor, and he seems to understand half of the things I say... "

"It’s probably the case, sweetie. Sometimes it's hard to keep up with you. But this is not a bad thing "

"Monty doesn’t think so! He says I’m cold, not romantic at all and too smart for a girl… Now he is  dating the daughter of his foreman, who works as salesgirl at Harrods. She likes kitties and reads Delly's books..."

"Oh Bea! I'm sorry!"

"Well, I’m not!"

Thomas stared at her in amazement.

"I told you. Monty is boring and daft. I don’t miss for sure talking with him... "

"I don’t understand than. What makes you so thoughtful?"

"I thought ..." She crossed her arms over her chest, "I thought it was like in the books, like in the pictures. I mean kissing and everything else!"

Everything else? Thomas stared in horror at those words. The thought of killing the young Parker crossed his mind in at least fifty different ways.

Bea understood immediately what that expression meant "No Uncle, what are you going to think! We only exchanged a few kisses and held hands!"

Thomas tried to breathe evenly. Maybe he could only send the boy in America on a raft instead of killing him, after all... "Yes. Of course honey. There's nothing bad. You're sixteen now... _" You_ _are_ _only sixteen! You're only a kid! My kid!  It 's all because of Andy, with his ideas about trust and dialogue!_   _Tonight he’ll hear me!_  I’ll s _trangle him and his nephew! My little Bea!_

"I thought I heard bells and birds and everything would have been perfect ..."

Thomas stiffened "It was bad?"

"No. It was nice. Very pleasant. I felt good, euphoric, while it lasted. But the reason wasn’t Monty"

"Kissing is a very nice thing, Bea. This is the reason people do it. It’s a way to communicate. But we can communicate in many ways. There is gossip with neighbors, questions in class, confidences with friends, and then there are times when you want to be with people you love and open your heart. It’s always talking, but there is a big difference: intensity, passion, commitment but also joy and satisfaction and pleasure... "

"What’s wrong with me? Why I don’t feel anything?" Her eyes had engulfed the entire face. She had never seemed so small and fragile, even that afternoon at lawyer Milford’s home. He embraced her tenderly, pressing her face against him.

"What are you talking about? Nothing is wrong with you! Only… It’s not so simple. It's not like in fairytales. It’s not enough a kiss to find true love. And while you wait to fall in love you can make some attempt and some mistake, it is part of life. And when you will meet the right person you will like to talk to him and laugh together and kissing will be not only pleasant. It will be like touching each other soul. I swear to you, Bea. It happens. Although now you feel it as unreal and difficult"

"But it never happened to you ... and even to Uncle Andrew..."

"Things aren't always as they seem. I told you, Bea. Life is the path we choose: sometimes we walk on the footsteps of the others, sometimes there is no reference and we must draw on our own the best way for us. Don’t expect to understand everything right now. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but you have to trust me "

"So it's not my fault if I don’t mind to see him no longer? If I don’t care about him? If I liked his kisses, but did not feel anything here?" Bea pointed to a spot on her breast.

 _I thought for a long time I didn’t have a heart, too..._  "No honey. Everything is alright. It's all perfectly normal. And exactly as it should be"

 

Bea understood Thomas' words about him and Andrew only a few months later.

Some of her friends had gone to pick her up, and she had forgotten in the rush to get out the letters she wanted to mail in the morning. 

She ran home to get them and as entered a car honked and a horse neighed, frightened. For this reason neither Thomas nor Andy heard the door opening and the quick streps of the girl up the stairs. Bea came down a moment later, still running, but stopped to watch, curious, the two men who were chatting in front of the mirror, in Thomas’ bedroom: Andrew was wasting all Thomas’ attempts to comb himself, ruffling him every time he pulled his hair back. Bea had to laugh, even if it seemed strange, because in her presence they never behave so intimately, so relaxed. Thomas whirled and Beatrix thought he was going to beat Andy with the comb, instead the man rose slightly on the tip of the toes and placed his lips on Andy’s, who returned the kiss and hugged him, first with tenderness, then passionately.

Bea froze for a second, then slipped out, without being heard, and quickly joined  the other girls, just a bit pale on the face. What surprised her most was that she wasn’t surprised at all. 

It was as if she had always known, as if the pieces of the puzzle eventually were all in place: the innuendo of the waiters at the restaurant, grandpa and grandma whispering, Andrew's adoring gaze  upon Thomas, and her uncle always so sweet talking to him. And the promise to take care of her together. Was she amazed? Was she upset? Was she disgusted? No, she was sorry, really sorry, because the people she loved most in the world were pretending even in front of her, but she understood perfectly why. She wouldn’t say anything, because there was nothing to say. Andrew and Thomas loved each other and loved her, she had always known.

 

The  three of them were having dinner together, one evening in July,  when Bea asked Thomas to accompany her to meet Mr. and Mrs. Barrow in Manchester. Thomas nearly strangle himself with the roast beef. 

He didn’t want to see his uncle and aunt, he didn’t  want to go home and didn’t  want to risk running into his father or his sister. But he understood that Beatrix needed a past to build her future.

She had been admitted to Newnham, she had chosen the Faculty of Architecture and in a couple of months her life would change again radically. She wanted to know the people who had refused her to definitively forget them and move on, without looking back, now more than ever.  

So they took the train one morning in late August, a puzzled man and an agitated girl. Andrew greeted them at the station, begging to call as soon as they arrived at the hotel.

When he came home, Jimmy was waiting for him at the door.


	22. Chapter 22

The man greeted him affably "Andrew, pal, how are you?"

"Mr. Parker for you, and I’m  never fine when I see you"

"My, my! That sullen attitude!  I just stopped by to say hi! Is there Thomas? "

Andrew was opening the door "No, he is not here and he’ll come back tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow, so now you can disappear"  _In the gutter right back where you came from ..._

"No! Damn!" Jimmy stamped his foot on the ground with an  expression of sincere sorrow. Thomas would surely have found the pout on his face _adorable,_  Andrew thought angrily.

"Where did he go?"

Andrew sighed. Answer cost him a great effort "In Manchester..."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes "Manchester ... Hmm ... Do you have an address?"

"For you, no!"

"Please Mr. Parker! I’ll be leaving in three days for New York and I want to say goodbye... "

The man gave him a little care "You'll be away for long?" His tone was ironic.

Jimmy blushed slightly "I hope so ... I’m moving... I'm getting married ..."

Andy couldn’t hide the surprise "Again?"

"Well, yes ... You know… I can!" He raised his  chin and straightened his shoulders, a bit for the pleasure of braging, a bit to look taller, because to being looked down on was upsetting him a lot.

"Ah! Fuck it, Jimmy! You can marry a hundred times, but you will never understand what it means to love someone!"

He  was closing the door in Jimmy’s face, but the man blocked it with his foot "I can at least leave this?" He was holding a package, it seemed a book.

"Let it and I throw before Thomas returns" Andrew was waving an index under Jimmy’s nose menacingly, when noticed out of the corner of his eye a shiny helmet and the glare of golden buttons.

"Is it all right, Mr. Parker? This man is annoying you? Do you need some help?  The policeman was smiling, but clearly ready to intervene.

"No Jones, thanks! Everything is fine. My friend here was entering. Good evening!"

While closing the door Andrew hit Jimmy on the shoulder strongly, making him stagger.

"Give me this and leave. And thank I don’t like having to deal with the police!" He took the package from Jimmy’s hands and looked out the window if the policeman had left, to throw the man out.

Jimmy laughed. He loved to piss Andy. "Come on, lad. At least tell me if Thomas stays in a hotel, so maybe I can trace him. Maybe he’ll come back earlier for _me_ " he accentuate the tone on the last word, smirking.

"It's impossible. It 's important. For his nephew. You could have came before"

Jimmy took one of his sparkling smiles that Thomas liked so much and made Andy sick "The little girl comes first eh?"

"She is no longer so little, and yes, family comes first. Don’t go around the house and don’t touch anything!"

Jimmy had walked into Thomas’s bedroom thinking it was still the living room. He whistled low.

"But everything has changed here. This is Thomas’s stuff " Jimmy smiled arrogant, as he touched the objects on the big dresser.

"Yes, this is his stuff and that's the bed where he sleeps with _me_ " He accentuate his tone on the last word. "Now get out, before you got me in the mood for expanding the porch!"

Jimmy looked at him amazed for a moment, then he imagined himself buried under the wooden beams in the garden "You see too many gangster pictures, lad" He was playing with the lighter that Thomas had brought from the front. It  worked no more now, but he didn’t want to throw it away. Andrew prayed it out of his hands.

"I told you to touch nothing and leave" He was raising his voice and he wouldn’t have wanted, but he  was already exasperated.

Jimmy sat down in the chair carelessly. He was enjoying himself a lot. "And to think that all this could be mine!"

Andrew growled menacingly "Excuse me? What did you say?"

Turning the index in the air Jimmy continued "This house, the restaurant, if just I wanted to ..."

If the look could electrocute, Jimmy would have fallen pierced by an electric shock of twenty thousand volts "Are you crazy or what? Yours? And how? Look at you, a Latin lover for retired ... how old is this one? Fifty? Sixty?  I have gained what I have, Jimmy. I put my blood, I did. And Thomas, too. This is our home, we chose all that's here together, those are all  pieces of our lives. The Skylon would never have existed without one of us. Everything we did, we did it together! We would have never managed on our own! And you have nothing to do with it! "

Jimmy gave him a bad look "He loves me. I could take him back at any time. You're lucky I don’t want!"

"Really? What would you do if you want to? Let’s hear this" Andy was leaning against the doorway, arms folded. His expression was condescending now. "Thomas is pretty picky, you know? Not like the bored ladies you fuck ... "

Jimmy intertwined his long pianist's fingers, elbows softly resting on the armrests of the chair, and crossed his legs making himself comfortable "Really? I thought it was enough to put yourself on knees and elbows..."

Jimmy believed Andrew would fly off the handle, but the man just smiled.

"Well you are wrong. You always have been wrong. I was wrong, too. For a long time" He sat himself on the edge of the bed, stretching his long legs in front of him, one elbow leaning on the brass bedpost. "For years I thought that he loved you more than me. It made me angry, you know? Because I gave him everything, love, attention, dedication. But it never seemed enough. He smiled happily, said he loved me but I never believed him. I thought he loved you. I didn’t understand" He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one, reaching out to grab an ashtray "I have always felt so damn insecure" He looked at Jimmy,  resigned "Yes, you laugh as well... I know I haven’t your pretty face and your blue eyes" A grin surfaced his  lips "But basically I'm always 8 inches taller than you..."

Jimmy winced "Not so much!"

Andrew grinned again "However, I am what I am and Thomas is a very complicated lad. Ultimately, it’s easier to have his love that his trust. He always waits for others to hurt, to betray him. Or at least he was so when I met him" For a moment he lost himself in the memory of a stunning gaze, beautiful but empty and sad and painfully resigned "But now I know. Thomas doesn’t love you. Not anymore. Not like he loves me at least. He wanted only to belong. He just wanted you to look at him as a human being, not as a fucking joke. Not as a fucking freak. When you greeted him in  Downton, that morning of many years ago, what did you tell him, Jimmy? If anyone had told me I'd be friends with a man like you,  I'd not have believed them. Do you remember?"

"Thomas told you about it?" Jimmy had lost all his bravery and was looking at him disappointedly.

"Of course he told me. We always talk about everything. I know you don’t understand, but he is my companion... not one for which I get on my knees, Jimmy. He's the reason why I wake up in the morning and live every single day of my life. And I know I am blaspheming, because I love my family and Beatrix more than anything else in the world, but not more than Thomas, not like Thomas "

Andrew pursed his lips for a moment, as if the words he had pronounced weighed on his heart.

"A man like you ... A man like him, like me, are we so different from you? You said it Jimmy, this house could be yours... "

"I didn’t mean he was different from me..."

"Strange, because instead it is exactly what you said! Different, queer, freak ... The  two of you had been close for years, Jimmy. Tell me, how is Thomas?"

The man looked at Andrew angrily. He didn’t understand what he was talking about "Thomas is a kind man and brave and generous and clever"

“Yes, he is, Jimmy. And he is a man. Like you. Your respect would mean a lot for Thomas, you know? He did everything to become someone you could respect, that you could see like a human being. You know that when you’ve  gone, he went to a charlatan in London who “cured” him with electrotherapy and gave Thomas pills and injections that were killing him? And you know why? To change, to become straight, to become someone you could consider a human being!"

Jimmy slapped the armchair forcefully "What kind of pills? What cure? What are you saying? He said he  was sick for a while but I didn’t think... I never thought such a thing! Why change? There is nothing wrong with him, nothing. Of course I respect him, of course I love him! He is my friend! The only one who ever really  wanted me as I am. Obviously he is not like me, because he has always been better than me!" Jimmy was on his feet and had said the last words vehemently, his face flushed.

Andy got up, too "So it's time to tell him, Jimmy. Give him this gift, before leaving"

"But he knows it!"

"No Jimmy, he doesn’t. Believe me"

"I ... I thought he was still angry with me because I couldn’t love him, I couldn’t give him what he wanted…"

"Jimmy! Thomas has left everything behind a long time ago! He has me, and Beatrix. But he still needs to feel accepted by the people he loves. He didn’t have  much luck in his life"

Andrew came close to him and put a hand on his shoulder "Tell him, tell him that you love him, that you don’t judge him, that you respect him, that you accept him the way he is, without asking anything in return. For Thomas it would mean the world..."

He walked over to the dresser, took out a sheet of paper and a pencil and wrote the name of a hotel.

"Call him at about six o'clock, he will be in his room for sure"

Jimmy grabbed the sheet with a trembling hand "I ... I'm sorry Andy, I feel dazed" He stared at him for a long time without seeing really "However she is not bored and she is only thirty years old…"

Andy gave him a look of complete disinterest.

Then Jimmy held out his hand, uncertain "Goodbye, and thanks"

Andy looked at the hand, fighting with himself. Eventually he grabbed it forcefully, without a minimum of courtesy. "Please. Get out now. Before I change my mind and punch you. And anyway, best whishes" He gestured vaguely "You know… For your marriage…"


	23. Chapter 23

The spectacle was simply magnificent. It was breathtaking. The Britannic wasn’t big, it was huge, it was endless. Endless and sparkling. Beatrix thought that the right word was glorious. The white and gold and chrome of the portholes and the rails, all shone and sparkled so much that who was watching needed to squint his eyes. All the people around her had the same stunned expression and the faces turned upward. All but two figures who were chatting animatedly, not far from the girl. 

Beatrix, recovering from the astonishment  of the show offered by the docking of the transatlantic, turned to look for Thomas and stood there, wondering. She thought to know well her uncle already, but she had to think again. Tilting her head on the side, with a raised eyebrow and arms folded across her chest, she thought that Andrew was absolutely right to get nervous whenever Jimmy Kent was mentioned.

Thomas was in front of the blond man, smiling excited as a little girl, his head bowed and his cheeks flushed. Bea shook her head, looked at her watch and decided she had left them alone enough. 

The evening before she had received a telegram from Andrew, where he recommended to drag Thomas in Liverpool with an excuse and to give him the time to greet his friend. So that morning they arrived with a cab in front of Jimmy’s hotel and Bea _decided_ she wanted to see by herself some shops near there. A couple of hours later she accompanied them at the docks. But it was really time to go home.

When Thomas shook hands with Jimmy, the other man smiled and hugged him strongly "I’ll write more often this time, I promise"

Thomas didn’t know where to look "Jimmy, it's all right. Whatever you decide"

Jimmy looked at him straight in the eyes "I’ll write because I want to do, I need it. I’ll always need you, believe me. But please, this time when you write, tell me about yourself, about your life. If I want to know about Alfred or Daisy or Mrs. Hughes I’ll ask them directly. When I receive news from you I want to know about you..."

Thomas looked at him open-mouthed, unable to utter a word.

"Do you think I hadn’t noticed at all? Do you really think I didn’t care?"

Thomas thought for a moment. He could remain silent, but weren’t the things unsaid to keep them separated all those years? He took a breath "Yes, I think so. I really thought you cared little about me and I didn’t want to bother you. I was scared you didn’t write me anymore if I became too whiny, too insistent. I thought you cared little about me ‘cause basically you let me help you to go to that woman, even though you knew perfectly the way  I felt about you. You have no idea what it was like when you closed the door and I found myself alone in that corridor…" His beautiful, bright eyes lost their expression and became glassy and empty "It was like dying. It was like being sucked into an endless void. I still can’t forget after all this time"

Jimmy bit his lip "I'm sorry!"

Thomas waved his hand, as if to stop him, "No, I didn’t say it to make you sorry, there's nothing to be sorry about. Everyone has to follow his nature. We wanted different things. You don’t have to apologize for anything, it was not your fault!"

Jimmy looked at him with an annoying expression "Don’t be silly, always and only to protect me, damn it! It was my fault and let my soul! If I wanted a fuck I shouldn’t have got you involved, knowing how you felt about me. I'd have to keep you in the dark, and instead I boasted! I was an asshole. And I should be more careful, because, believe me, because  I am so sorry I saw the back of you. Instead I acted rashly and I blew it. I'm very good at it…"

Thomas stroked his arm tenderly "It's a long time ago. And now we are here, togheter. Everything is alright"

Jimmy was looking for words that were less harsh, less difficult to pronounce, but didn’t find "When I left, you must have thought I had betrayed you..." He blushed and looked down to the ground.

Thomas smiled "No, Jimmy. I'm not this way. I thought it was my fault. As always."

Jimmy looked at him with an expression so surprised to seem stupid "Your fault? And how? I throw myself headlong into that absurd situation: those valentine’s cards, phone call... I chose to go, I asked you to help me! "

Thomas closed his eyes for a moment, as if to ward off a nagging thought, but when he opened them  Jimmy realized some ghosts never quite "I thought I should be more careful Jimmy, I thought I should try to warn you right away when the fire broke out, in some way. I thought I had to insist more with his lordship to forgive you, maybe I should insist more to stop you. I should do more and better. I would have to protect you and instead I failed"

"What are you saying! It was impossible! You cannot keep everything under control Thomas!"

"Now I know it" he smiled "And I can hardly stand it. But it took me so long to learn it, and without Andy it would never have succeeded... "

"He loves you so much, you know? Although he is an asshole!"

"I’m lucky..."

"Come and see me in New York, you, Beatrix and Andy too. As soon as I placed. I really mean it!"

Jimmy hugged him again, with affection.

Beatrix approached, slightly annoyed "Uncle, sorry but now we have to go, if we lose this train we have to wait until tomorrow." She looked at Jimmy, bored "And he is boarding..."

Jimmy grinned making faces behind her shoulders "Another one  who thinks I’m nice ..."

Thomas smiled and turned to the girl "Yes treasure. It 's really time to go home"

 

~~~

 

Andrew slipped under the covers trying to make no noise, but Thomas turned to him smiling. Then he opened his arms and the other man sat there, his head resting on Andrew’s chest.

While yawning Thomas muttered "Bea’s sleeping?"

"Yes. I was upstairs now" Andrew rested his cheek on Thomas’s forehead "I missed both of you ... "

"And what are you doing in two weeks, when she will go to Cambridge?"

"You'll have to console me and be very, very kind to me" He stretched lazily, hugging Thomas even more, "How’d it go in Manchester?"

Thomas sighed "Dunno. Good and bad" and gave him a brief account of what had happened.

 

~~~

 

When Bea asked him to meet her paternal grandparents, Thomas sent a letter explaining the situation and asking to meet them. Receiving no response he sent some telegrams. On the third try his uncle replied with an outright denial. Then Thomas had been forced to write that if they didn’t want to meet Bea at least for an hour, he would have made such a scene in front of their door that the neighbors would talk of nothing else for the next few years. The threat had the desired effect and a few days later Thomas and Bea found themselves at the door of a house very tidy and very anonymous, in a district of Manchester equally tidy and equally anonymous. If it were not for the house number and the name on the mailbox it would be really difficult to be able to distinguish a house from another.

"You lived here?" Bea looked around bewildered.

"Yes sweetie, I grew up here, two houses down"

As he turned to knock on the door, he saw in the corner of his eye someone moving a curtain through the window of the house he had just indicated to Beatrix. He sighed. And he thought strongly about Andrew waiting for him at home.

Opened the door a woman pretty short, her hair messed up.

"We would like to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Barrow. They’re expecting us"

"Yes, yes, they are waiting, aren’t they? Come inside, What are you doing just standing around here like this?"

Thomas thought that Mr. Carson and Mrs Hughes would have argued with that, but he followed the woman inside, after Bea.

Nothing had changed. Even the wallpaper had been replaced with a nearly identical one. Grandparents’ photo on the small console, along with that of a brother of his aunt who died young, of which Thomas could never remember the name. The small porcelain dog with which he always fiddled waiting for his cousin, and the framed needlepoints on the wall "Home sweet home" and "God bless us everyone".

For a moment he saw a 12 years old himself running inside from the same door, without knocking and  shouting "Hello Aunt Dottie, Rufus is in his room?" And a sweet voice answering from the kitchen "Yes Tommy darling, go to call him and come down, tea is ready and I baked a tart!" It was good, his aunt’s tart. Thomas wondered if he would even eaten one that afternoon or it would be too much to hope.

Aunt Dottie was alone, sitting rigidly in her usual chair by the window, which had been newly reupholstered with a cloth almost identical to the one he remembered. She squared them from head to toe dumbfounded. "Thomas? Is it really you? You've changed so much! " Her voice was shaking with emotion, despite the blank expression.

"We have not seen since I was 16 years old, aunt. I think I have grown up a bit since then. But you haven’t changed at all" It wasn't true, and from his aunt's  expression he realized that she he was well aware. The young beautiful and jovial woman, with wide green eyes and red mahogany hair, had given way to a version of herself grayed, faded.

"Yes, it's been a long time. You went away a year before Rufus ..." Her eyes misted with tears, but she recovered quickly "And you must be Beatrix" She gestured for them to sit down "Thomas wrote us that you are about to go to university"

Beatrix smiled fair, straightening his back "Yes, I was admitted to the Newnham and I’ll attend the Faculty of Architecture"

Mrs. Barrow gave her a surprised look "Architecture? Unbelievable, for a woman!"

"It‘s thanks to  Uncle Thomas, he inculcated in me  the passion for geometry and mathematics! The skill of drawing instead, I inherited it from me dad…"

She smiled “Of course, darling! Rufus was always with a pencil and a sheet of paper in his hands!"

Mr. Barrow came in then, strutting like a Coldstream Guard. Beatrix was very struck by the resemblance to Thomas, but his grandfather lacked the brilliant blue eyes and beautiful sensual mouth that made the younger man so fascinating, and his hair was snowy white. The nose and sharp cheekbones  instead were the same.

Mrs. Barrow was handing Bea her tea and the cup wobbled dangerously on the delicate bone china saucer "Come sit near me dear.  She was telling us that this year will attend the Faculty of Architecture, at Oxford"

Bea corrected her with undisguised pride "At Cambridge"

"Ah, yes dear"

Her grandfather gave an icy stare "Really? They also accept women now? "

Bea stared back without a shadow of uncertainty "Since the end of the last century ..."

Thomas nudged her "Yes sir, they accept women now”

The man frowned, blocking with a wave of the hand his wife who was giving him a cup "I will not spend a penny!"

Thomas sighed, "That's not why we came. Beatrix has nonetheless won a scholarship that covers the cost of registration and tuition fees and I don’t have problems to provide the rest.  I am perfectly able to take care of her!"

Again that cold stare, eyes narrowed "Take care of her ..."

Thomas sat up straighter. He was no longer an insecure boy  "Yes sir, take care of her. It’s what I did in the last seven years!"

"Then why are you here?"

Beatrix leaned forward, slipping on the edge of the sofa "I wanted to meet you. Only this. I'm sorry I insisted so much. But it was important for me. You are still my grandparents"

Thomas noted with regret that there wasn’t the tart. And the answer was what he expected.

"We are not your grandparents. Rufus stopped being our son a long time ago!"

Mrs. Barrow sighed.

Thomas realized that he could not remain silent "Really sir? Really you can erase the existence of someone who has been so important for you as well? With a clean slate? Bea is for me like a daughter now and whatever she did I couldn’t deny her!"

"But how do you want to know, a freak, a joke of nature, what it means to be a father?"

Bea jumped up and the tray on the tea table in front of her wobbled dangerously "Much more than you, Mr. Barrow!"

He reached out to Thomas "Let's go uncle, it was a mistake. Forgive me. You told me but I was stubborn, I wanted to try it anyway. Now I understand that there's really nothing for me here. Let's get out"

They walked in silence to the door. While Thomas lowered the handle he heard screaming from the other room.

"Stop Dottie!"

"That's enough, you're just a stupid old stubborn man! We lost a son because of this nonsense and now you want me to lose my granddaugther! Thomas, Beatrix! Wait!"

Thomas ran to meet her "We are here Aunt Dottie"

Mrs. Barrow leaned on his arm. She was shaking "Tommy darling come, let's go get some fresh air. You too dear Beatrix"

She grabbed her coat and hat and went out. She slammed the door firmly behind her.

They stopped in a tearoom a few blocks away and ordered another tea and this time tart too.

"I apologize for my husband, dear" The woman's eyes were sad and tired expression "He has a horrendous temper, as all the Barrows"

Bea smiled "I wouldn't say that. The two I have known are wonderful men"

The woman took Bea’s hands between her tenderly, nodding and watching Thomas fondly. In the afternoon they spent together she filled Beatrix of questions about her life in London, her friends, her studies. With her surprise Bea understood that Mrs Barrow knew all about her mother and father and their life in India "A few years after their 'departure' Rufus wrote me. He knew his father would throw his letters, so he asked a colleague back from Bombay to contact me, making me have his address. He was my boy..." Her mouth took on a bitter twist "Beatrix, forgive me, but my husband would never have allowed me to keep you with us, and I'm so ashamed I didn’t do anything" She turned to her nephew "I left you alone to look after her. The only one of our family who has courage and common sense. I am inexcusable, unforgivable"

The tea room was almost empty and no one noticed the old lady lean and stiff trying to hold back tears of sadness and anger behind a lavender embroidered handkerchief.

Beatrix stroked her back gently, without saying a word.

"I'm so glad you came, I wasn’t brave enough to contact you after the way I had behaved. And when you wrote that you wanted to come to visit I hoped that he... He would stop being so stupid and blind and dumb! He suffered greatly for what happened. Although he loved so much Rufus. But he never managed to go beyond hypocrisy and false respectability. Elaine’s husband denounced us saying that we had helped them to escape... The neighbors treated us like lepers. I told him I didn’t care and that was not important what others thought because our Rufus was a good guy. I told him to change neighborhood, city. But he never wanted. He has been here all these years, as  to punish himself for such things had gone. Sometimes I thought I'd leave, but I was never able. Without me he would be completely alone ...  But it wasn’t right to keep me away from you too, darling"

They said goodbye and promised to write and to meet again. Mrs. Barrow embraced his granddaughter, then turned to Thomas, stroking his face with her wrinkled hand "Thanks for taking care of her, Tommy"

Thomas blushed and looked down. Said in a sad voice "Rufus asked me"

Her eyes misted with tears "He asked you, but you've done a wonderful job. Thanks Tommy"

The man stared at her in the eyes and for a moment it was as if the years had not passed. She was again the same young woman who laughed along with his mother reading the silly ads on the sheets of old newspapers that they used to wrap the glass preserving jars before putting them to boil "You have not changed at all Aunt Dottie! I really mean it"

 


	24. Chapter 24

Coming back  to the hotel Bea had found Andrew’s telegram:  _Bring Thomas to Liverpool._   _You don’t have to miss the  Britannic’s departure. If he don’t want, insist._   _And give him some time alone._   _I'll explain when you come home._   _Thank you._

While they had dinner, Beatrix spoke with Thomas "Uncle Andrew sent a telegram. He wants me to  persuade you to go to Liverpool, but he doesn’t explain why. Do you know?"

Thomas looked at her open-mouthed "I beg your pardon… What did he ask?"

Bea buttered a slice of toast, then pointed to the plate with the knife "Herring is tasty. Try it.  He asked me to divert trough Liverpool to see the Britannic’s departure for New York, I think. Shall we? "

Thomas poured drinks for both of them while he thought "Do you want?"

"I have nothing else to do, I’d like it and Andrew  wrote to insist. So yes, I do"

"Ok then. I'll introduce an old friend that maybe you've heard of "

Beatrix looked suspicious "Jimmy Kent?"

"And how ...?" He looked at her with wide eyes.

Bea laughed shamelessly "Obviously I know. The few times Uncle Andrew is irritated or behaves strangely to you is always because of Jimmy Kent! "

Thomas mumbled something unintelligible.

"And don’t look at me like that... Uncle Andrew has a point, all things considered"

"Oh really?"

"Well, from what I hear, to help him over the years you loaned to him  at least one hundred pounds without having them back, you have two ribs fractured in a fight with a bookmaker and even chef Alfred is tired of seeing him fall into the kitchen after he did deflate more than half of the soufflé mignon that he had prepared for the dinner in honor of Bob Crisp slamming the oven door while snooping! And this is only the little that I could know eavesdropping..."She gave a little smirk. "You should see the faces that Uncle Andrew makes you over your shoulder every time you talk to this guy on the phone, or read a letter from him!"

Thomas made some cough and loosened his tie, "Yeah, well, Jimmy is an old friend... Changing the subject, how do you feel? Today was difficult"

"It  was difficult for both of us. But I am happy to know papa has had his mother’s love and approval, even if he was so far from home. It’s important for me. But  I was selfish to ask you to accompany me. I know you don’t like to be here in Manchester. They have seen us from the window and did nothing ... There is no way they didn’t recognize you"

Thomas knew that she was referring to his father and his sister "Yes, Bea, They have seen us but chose to ignore it. I knew it would happen "

"Grandma Barrow seems good..."

"She  is. Aunt Dottie is a very sweet woman. But she has always been under the thumb of uncle. Aunt Dottie and my mom were truly friends. I feel like I can hear their laughter while doing laundry or preparing Christmas pudding. It was she who wrote me when my mom died. I was so angry! No one told me she was ill, they wouldn’t let me see her, attend the funeral!" Thomas shook strongly the spoon in front of him, bending it slightly "A few months later the other footman who worked at Downton with me, William, the first Daisy’s husband" Bea nodded, as if to say she understood who he was talking about "Well Mrs. Mason died too, and everyone to pity him, to comfort him... I hated him so much for this, even if he had nothing to do with it. But I was frustrated and lonely and youg and daft"

Bea took the spoon from his hands, worried that he might get hurt. She talked more to herself than to Thomas "All this nonsense because you choose Andrew over a woman..."

Thomas made a strange expression, half worried, half relieved. To deny would have been stupid "Yes... I tried... I swear I tried to be as he wanted me, but I was never able…” He frowned, the subtle wrinkle line in his forehead getting a little more prominent  “Never able...” He waved his hand as to send the ghosts back “When did you understand? "

"A couple of years ago, but I've always known it. It 's impossible not to feel how... how lovingly you stare to each other"

Thomas was tentative and sad  "I'm sorry, sweetie"

"I’m not! I love you both as you love me. I can only be happy that you two are together. When I came to live with you I was always so afraid that Andrew would have left sooner or later to start a family of his own. It was great to understand that WE were his family!"

Thomas  was still hesitant,  but made a shy smile.

The dinner hall was almost empty. They had arrived late, and the waiter, after having served quickly and without courtesy, had disappeared.

Feeling a lump in his throat, Thomas leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead "You are and will always be our little girl. Let’s call it a night. Tomorrow we have to go to Liverpool"

 

~~~

 

Andrew was smoking casually, running tenderly his fingers through Thomas’s hair "What a day ..."

"Yeah, what a day..."

"I'll have to talk myself with Beatrix"

"It would be better" He took the cigarette from Andrew’s lips and lifted it to his, greedily sucking in a puff of smoke. "She's growing up so fast ... I’ll miss her so much" He wasn’t thinking about university, but a little later on “Life will take her away from us…”

“Love is a strong bond” Andrew kissed his temple and  took back the cigarette, pensive "And what about Jimmy?"

"Oh. Jimmy is Jimmy. You know him"

Thomas was smiling. His face was hidden against Andy’s arm and he couldn’t see him, but he felt his lips stretch into a smile against his skin. He slipped his fingers through the ink dark hair again "It went well then..."

Thomas moved his head against Andy’s hand, like a cat looking for caresses "Yes. Thank you. I don’t know what you said or did, but thanks. He told me things that ... Well in short, things that made me feel better..."

Andrew grabbed from the nightstand the package Jimmy had left and hit him lightly on the head "Your friend gave me this for you"

Thomas tore the paper, intrigued. When he saw what was hidden inside, smiled "Ah, here it is!"

Andrew moved forward to read the title of the book. It was  _Gulliver's Travels._  Thomas had lit the lamp and was reading a note he had found in the package along with the book.

"I lent the book to Jimmy on the promise he would return it, but when he went away from Downton he forgot and remembered about it only now, while packing up his stuff for New York"

"Why it’s so important to you? It’s a gift?"

"Yes, but it’s not what you are thinking. My teacher, Mrs. Graham. She told me to learn to look at things from different points of view. She said a thing isn’t right only because many people believe it. I think that somehow she understood how I am and wanted to help me to accept it"

Andrew took the book from his hands and turned off the light. Hugging Thomas  under the covers he whispered "How it went down?" And held his breath waiting for the answer.

"Well, sometimes I think that Gulliver's Travels are nothing compared to what I had to deal with to get here. But it went well. Very well indeed"

Andrew breathed and smiled.  _Fuck Jimmy Kent ..._


	25. Chapter 25

Three weeks later Thomas and Andrew carried Beatrix’s luggage into the Bentley while Mrs. Parker and Abigail were crying in a irritating kind of way in front of the door.

"Stop it, you two. She is going to Cambridge, not as a missionary to Africa, and she will be at home for the holidays!" Andrew was starting to get annoyed. After giving his mother a couple of handkerchiefs, finally they got in the car and left, leaving the two women to despair without restraint.

Beatrix laughed amused. She was excited and happy and full of hope for the future. Thomas instead for some time was increasingly worried about the future. He had started to read newspapers from top to bottom again, especially foreign policy, and had contacted often their financial advisor, to seek safe investments outside Europe. But above all he was worried about Andrew.

The first person who came to welcome Beatrix at Newnham was Sybbie Branson. The girls met when Thomas and Bea came to visit Phyllis during the London season and they became friends immediately, although they were jealous of each another because of him. Sybbie  had matriculed as student in Politics and International Studies and  was delighted to discover that Bea was at Cambridge with her: the daughter of a chauffeur and the daughter of an almost butler, as Andy used to say, if alone were an easy target for criticism, together they could make a difference.

So it was that, during the holidays of the first semester, Bea found herself invited at Downton as guest. 

She was getting ready to go down for dinner when the door opened and Phyllis sneaked inside. She watched her astonished "Oh darling, you are a charm. And this is the dress we chose together in London! You're beautiful! Do you want me to comb your hair?"

Bea hugged her "Aunt Phyllis! Thanks. No, that's okay, I'm used to wear my hair down, I would feel uncomfortable otherwise" She looked in the mirror again "Do you really think I'm all right? Is it proper for this evening? Too simple?" Bea smoothed on the sides of the crepe de chine pale blue dress with a deep v-neck.

"You are perfect darling, and I would know that the best..."

"I feel so strange... You and Joseph work here and I..."

"Beatrix Barrow, head up and chest out! We're glad you're here. Maybe you don’t understand our point of view, but we are glad about it. A decade ago it would have been impossible. Times are changing and you are the symbol of this change. There are no ivory towers or privileges handed down by God's will. You can be anything you want, Bea. And that fills me with pride. And the Crawley are good people, don’t worry"

Phyllis opened the door and nodded to come down the stairs. Sybbie, George and Lady Crawley, beautiful and fragile,  were waiting in front of the door of the dining room. 

Bea smiled but let out a suppressed sigh, remembering when Mr. Carson, in London, recommended them to stay in the servant's hall and not get heard upstairs. Who knows what would have thought seeing her now at the same table with the Family...

"Do you really know which spoon must be used to eat this type of soup?" Sybbie looked at her full of admiration.

"Uncle is very attentive about these things ..." Bea blushed slightly, sipping  the consomme with a feigned expression.

Lady Grantham smiled "We have the fondest memory of Barrow here at Downton, dear. He  always been an invaluable assistance"

Lord Grantham was about to add something, but said nothing. Bea had the feeling he was not in complete agreement with his wife.

"Do you know that rescued Aunt Edith from a fire? I still remember it. They woke up me  and George in the middle of the night and dad dragged us all outdoors. There was a lot of smoke! And then appeared the Firemen from the village to extinguish the flames"

Bea winced "Really? Uncle never spoke about it"

"He still runs that restaurant in London?" Lord Grantham was curious, also because of the two glasses of _Dolcetto_  he drank.

Bea replied mechanically "Yes, that and two other, not so posh, one in Shadwell and one in Queen's Park"

"Ah, I'm glad that his business go well! He was clever, I’ll give him. And a great cricketer. A true champion"

George rolled his eyes and Sybill’s father grinned behind his napkin.

Lord Grantham rebuked them waving the tip of the knife in the air "Yes, yes, laugh as well, the two of you, but meanwhile, since he left Downton, we haven’t won ever again – what am I saying - we haven’t lost with dignity ever again against the village!" Then he turned back to Bea "He still works with that guy, one of our footmen... I do not remember the name… I think he was James..."

Lady Grantham took another slice of roast beef and nodding to Molesley not fill the glass of her husband a third time " Andrew, dear, Andrew"

Bea smiled sweetly "Yes, Andrew Parker. They are still together..."

Lady Mary raised an eyebrow ironically and Mr Branson gave her a dark look.

"I'm glad Sybbie has a friend like you  in Cambridge. Things can be difficult at times away from home, but I have the impression that you two will manage fine together. Sybbie told me that you also have obtained excellent results until now"

Bea turned the vegetables with a fork on the plate in front of her "I try to do my best. At home they rely on me "

Lady Mary gave  her a compassionate look "It must be difficult to live with Barrow. Maybe he was valuable, sometimes, but even arrogant, cocky and oily. Downstairs no one could stand him"

Sybbie was blushing up to her ears and Lady Grantham froze his daughter in place with a look "Mary! You think that’s appropriate?"

Beatrix smiled sinking the spoon in the slice of lemon meringue pie Molesley had just served her "Uncle Thomas is a very demanding man, it is true. But it must be said to tell the true he is with others, but first of all with himself. And he is extremely shy and reserved, and so his behavior can be easily mistaken for arrogance by a superficial observer" she tasted a bite. They were all in embarrassed silence "But he really is a lovely person and tender and protective. My dear father could not entrust me to anyone better. I was very lucky"

"My wife said the same things talking about him"

Sybbie and Lady Mary turned to him at the same time.

"Really Dad?"

"Really Tom?"

Mr Branson just grinned at his sister in law "Yes, really! Of course if you were in his black book he didn’t make your life easy"

Bea smiled "Yes. Uncle likes to get things right…"

The rest of the evening passed safely, but Bea was happy to be back in his room a few hours later. As she was preparing to get to bed there was a knock on the door.

"Beatrix, May I come?"

"Of course, dear Sybill, come in!"

"Well, did you see? It went well. It was useless to worry so much" She sat on the bed and played with Bea ‘s sketchbook  "Do you draw yet?"

"Of course. It 's an old habit. One way to think... to consider"

"Grandparents are great, aren’t they? And tomorrow you’ll know Aunt Edith"

Bea looked puzzled "Wait a moment! Other people? You said that there would be only Lord and Lady Grantham, Lady Mary and your father!"

Sybill’s eyes brightened "Oh, Grandma said we could invite some friends, otherwise we would get bored!"

"And who are these friends?"

"Well of course Aunt Edith and Uncle Bertie with Marigold and their idiot son Robbie. Be careful because he is a meddler. Then there are George’ friends, Timothy Napier and Theodore Gillingham,  Aunt Isobel and Mr. Clarkson with his nephew Arthur"

Sybbie blushed slightly saying the last name. Bea smiled.

"It seems that finally I’ll know the famous Arthur"

"Oh Bea, it's handsome! And the sweetest and intelligent guy I ever meet! He is an intern at Downton Hospital and probably will replace his uncle soon. I hope you like him. I want you like him! Your opinion is so important to me"

"I’ll  like him Sybill, I'm sure. However I wish you would have told me earlier about all these people... "

"If you need an evening dress you can take one of mine. Choose the one you like most.  Baxter can fix it"

Bea smiled, looking at her friend about 3 inches and almost two sizes smaller then her. She was deeply moved by Sybbie’s generosity and total lack of practicality.

"No thanks. I put something in my luggage, just in case. Uncle Thomas made me bring some dress"

Sybbie got up and hugged her "Well then. It’s all settled. Tomorrow we’ll go to Ripon and in the evening you’ll know Arthur. I'm so glad you're here at Downton! "

"I am happy to be here"  _At least I think so..._

Half an our later Phyllis came to say goodnight. Bea was already in bed, and  Phyllis sat down beside her gently caressing her hair.

“Sleep well, darling”

“Aunt,  can I ask you a thing?”

“It’s late Bea. You must sleep”

She looked at her with an eager expression.

“What’s the matter? Is it about tomorrow evening? Don’t worry”

Bea stood up to seat “It’s not this. It’s about something Lady Mary said. About Uncle Thomas. That no one could stand him when he worked here in Downton. She said he was bossy, cocky and oily. Is it true?”

Phyllis seemed torn “My dear, it was so many years ago…”

“Then it is true…” Bea didn’t understand. Thomas was always so kind, so gentle, a very private and quiet person. The true became clear.

“It was because of his tendencies, of his choises!”

“Beatrix… What can I say?”

“Simply the true”

“The true… You must ask to Thomas and Andrew…”

“I’m asking to you”

Phyllis  tried to find the words “Thomas was alone. So alone he wasn’t anymore a human being. He was so vulnerable and scared, but he didn’t want the others understand his weakness because he was so worried people should use it against him, threatening him, blackmailing him, beating him”

“Has anybody ever done that?”

Phyllis sighed “More often than I'd like to admit”

Bea was almost in tears “Oh Aunt Phyllis!”

“To defend himself he learned how to strike first. He was away from home Bea, you must understand, his family didn’t want him.

He was so evil, he felt condemned by everyone, so he went against everyone. He was like _I am whatever you say, so if people think I am a foul and twisted creature then I am going to behave like that_. He was impossible. He perceived people to be nasty towards him, so he gave it back to them, using his position here to inflict pain”

“Pain?”

Phyllis nodded.

“And then what happened?”

“He meet Andrew”

“And then?”

“Nothing. He only meet Andrew” She smiled “Sleep now. Lady Mary shouldn’t dredge up the past. Sometimes she is unnecessarily cruel. Sleep tight” She kissed Bea on the forehead and turned out the light.

Bea cried herself to sleep.

 

The next day George and Sybill showed Beatrix the surroundings. The scenery was beautiful: patchwork hills, woodlands dark, winding paths. Bea was enchanted. The green around them had declined in all its nuances. Color filled her eyes and heart by giving her a sense of euphoric happiness and the air smelled of moss, heathers and junipers.

The small stone cottages with their rustic gardens divided by sandstone walls gave everything a look gentle and wild together.

They visited an ancient stone circle near the village and Bea took the time to make some sketches and copy the signs engraved on the stones eating the sandwiches they had brought with them. 

Arriving  in Ripon they stopped to take a cream thea and because it had started to rain, George called Downton and the chauffer came to bring them home.

They had spent a lovely day: George had asked them many questions about life at college and university. He was a smart guy and somewhat sensitive and moaned slightly with her cousin about Henry Talbot "He and Mom love each other, and he is also nice, but they  don’t get along on just about anything! And then she never know if she can trust him or not. Even now, for example. He had to be here too but then at the last minute he has gone to Brussels. Mama was so disappointed"

"I see George. But this isn’t your problem. I told you many times. They have made their choices. We have to make our own. Do not worry about Aunt, she is stronger than you think"

"I'm not worried only for Mama but also for Downton. We don’t know really for how long we can go on like this. To close two entire floors was a mistake, the building must be used. Otherwise it will fall apart and moisture and rats will eat it"

Sybbie approached his cousin and put a hand on his shoulder "Georgy, you are only seventeen! Leave it to Aunt and Dad. You'll see that they will find a solution, as always. At least for a while"

"Henry wants Mama sold everything and move to London. Mama got angry and they quarreled. And so he went to Brussels..." George turned to Bea with an ashamed expression. "Excuse me, we should not talk about these things in front of you. We're making you uncomfortable... "

"Do not worry. It's not a problem"

"Is  Barrow with someone?"

Sybbie yelled indignant "George!"

"Sorry, I’m only curious ... but if he isn’t, then it’s better"

"My Uncle is a very private man"

Bea looked at Sybill: if she knew anything about Thomas and Andrew, she didn’t show it.


	26. Chapter 26

Thomas, sitting at the desk, still had the phone in his hand and a puzzled expression on his face when Andrew walked into the small smoky office.

"Is it all right?"

The man nodded "Yes… It was Bea..."

Andrew moved closer,  leaning on the arm of the chair "Did she call? Is everything fine? Why that expression?"

Thomas glanced at the closed door and held his companion, rubbing the face against his chest. "Yes. It’s all right ... She just called to tell me that she loves me. She said so ... Don’t you think it’s a little weird?"

Andrew was stroking his back. Tenderly brushed away a strand of hair from his forehead "No. I don’t think it ‘s weird at all that someone wants to tell you they love you...  Anyway, I spoke with Phyllis this morning. It seems that Lady _Broom up her ass_ said a few words too many yesterday at dinner, about the fact you weren’t the soul of kindness when you worked at Downton and Bea ... well, let's say that she has defended his beloved uncle" He bent to kiss his temple, where the shiny black hair began to gray.

Thomas looked at him amazed "Can’t believe...  I thought of many things but... I mean, many years have passed, many things have happened" He looked down, shy "More than anything you happened to me, and everything changed consequently..."

Andrew laughed, the warm and full laughter that made everything easier, brightest "I like when you flatter me, Thomas Barrow!" 

 

Bea felt much calmer than the previous night as she prepared to go down for dinner. The day spent out with her friends had put her in a good mood and hearing Thomas’ voice had warmed her heart. Even this time Phyllis went to see her. Luckily, because Bea could not close the last buttons of the dress but was too ashamed to ring that ridiculous bell. Phyllis helped her and then watched pleased.

"You are beautiful... I really mean it."

"Thank you!  Uncle Andrew choose it. According to me it's a waste of money, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.  I never thought I’d get the chance to out on it. He says sometimes a woman should wear something that she is ashamed about  having bought... whatever that means"

"Andy is quite right! This evening, however, let me fix your hair, only a few hairpins, it will take a minute, just to show the earrings. Surely these stones are beautiful, they look like real diamonds!"

Bea smiled and left Phyllis comb her hair, staring at her reflection in the mirror. 

The diamonds were a gift from her father, the last. Although in reality Bea considered Thomas her father’s last gift.

Lying on the couch, Rufus had called her. He was always tired and anything, even the smallest gesture, seemed to cost him a heroic effort. Bea still remembered him vividly, his wide blue eyes a bit dull, glassy, while beckoning her to sit beside him.

He had placed on the palm of Bea’s hand a pouch. "Sweetie listen, it is important, you have to keep them now. I toke and cut them to make a pair of earrings for your mom, but...  Hide them very well, sew them inside the lining of your purse or in the rim of the petticoat and not show to anyone, ever. If you do not know how to do, if the situation comes to a showdown... " Bea had tried to stop him, didn’t want to hear such talk, but Rufus had silenced her  with a wave of the shivering hand "If the situation deteriorates further,  contact one of these people" Rufus handed her a slip of paper with some names and addresses "Ask them an estimate and if they can sell the diamonds. If you sell them together you will obtain  more. No less than a thousand pounds for both, little one, keep it in mind. "

Bea’s voice trembled "But dad, I can't take it. It 's a huge responsibility! They cost too much!"

The father closed her fingers around the pouch. Breathing with difficulty he whispered "You must. It’s the only thing I can do for you Bea".

A few months after her arrival at Thomas and Andrew's home, Beatrix had shown them the stones, explaining that they could sell them to pay her expenses. The two men exchanged a quick glance and then Thomas turned back to the little girl "Beatrix dear, this is a gift from your father, these stones are yours and there is no need to sell. If you want I can keep them together with our things, so you never have to worry about it, and when you want to see the diamonds, just ask"

Beatrix thought it was a perfect solution, and forget about them until, the previous Christmas, she found, near the tree, a little jewel box.

The evening was more pleasant than the previous one. Arthur proved quite insignificant, although very handsome, and little Robbie was really a punk, but George’s friends, Timothy and Theo, were really nice and Bea was overjoyed to review Marigold. The girl, who had become translucent and beautiful as her mother, rushed to embrace her "Beatrix, how many years! I'm so happy to see you again, I could not believe it when Sybbie told me that you were there! How is Barrow? "

George came up "Your uncle is in our hearts Bea. He gave us chocolate secretly, a ndpiggyback rides around the house and was always ready to rideva us if we did some damage! "

Marigold laughed "Yes! He always helped us to hide from the nanny!"

Sybbie also joined them "He advised for the better hiding places! It was impossible not to love him! Marigold didn’t eat for a week when he left" The younger cousin blushed.

"Even Uncle Thomas remembers you with great affection"  _Then he wasn’t only arrogant, cocky and oily ..._

Dinner was pleasant, although the footmen hired for the occasion were truly incapable and risked several times to drop the serving utensils on guests. Bea found herself thinking about how it must have been witnessing to the silent dance of Thomas and Andrew, strutting and beautiful in the warm light of the candles, pouring the wine and handing the trays, with distinct and precise gestures, and then take up position along the walls perfectly straight and accurate as soldiers.

"A penny for your thoughts" The deep, warm voice of Timothy Napier brought her back to reality in a nice  way. The guy, not much older than George, had a smart and quiet gaze. They began to chat and Bea discovered that he was in Cambridge too, studying law, was fond of numismatics,  Wordsworth and playing hockey.

Sybbie had described him as serious and a bit boring, but Beatrix didn't think that way at all. They spoke of Lady Astor, Bernard Shaw and Dana Gibson, Timothy laughed at her jokes and they left with the promise to meet again in Cambridge as soon as possible. Beatrix came back to her room confused and happy. She felt weak in the knees, butterflies in the stomach and a strange buzzing in her ears and she knew it was love.

A few months after England went to war.


	27. Chapter 27

When the letter arrived Thomas had a nervous breakdown. He locked himself in the bedroom, messed everything up, screamed and cried. When he went out, several hours later, Andrew was there. He stood outside the door waiting for him all the time and then hugged Thomas tenderly "I have to go darling, we knew"

"We could find a way, you could be exempted from the army. I could ask Lord Flintshire or Dr. Clarkson, now he is a big shot in York! You could run away, go to New York, to Jimmy!" Thomas grabbed Andrew by the shoulders and shook him. He was hopeless.

"No, Thomas, I couldn’t. We talked about this" Andrew sighed and squeezed the man against him. "For you, for Beatrix, for the sake of  all that I hold dear, I have to go. I must do it! We must play our part. What would happen if all the men run away, if all the men wanted to stay home? "

His companion looked at him with a bitter expression "It would probably be a better world..." Andrew gave him a sad smile, leaning his forehead against Thomas’s "My love..."

"Andrew! What will I do without you? What will become of me? Don’t leave me. I'm nothing without you, nothing. You are the best part of me. You’ll take away my heart! How can I live if you’ll take away my heart?"

Andrew didn’t answer, just stroked Thomas’ head and shoulders slowly and let him cry. He knew he was doing the right thing, but that did not make the separation less painful.

"I must report in two days in Aldershot"

"Aldershot? It’s a couple of hours from here... "

"Yes, even less. It’s in the Hempshire. I enrolled in the Catering Corps. At least it will be not so dangerous to cook for the troops" Andrew tried again to smile "I will stay there for 12 weeks training and then ... "

"And then?"

"And then most likely they will send us in France"

"In France ..." Thomas’ beautiful face was twisted in desperation.

"Thomas, it is not the trench. I am going to stay at the rear, I will manage it. I’ll get back to you"

"You cannot promise anything!"

"I know, luv. I know. I'll write you every day. I hope to have a license before leaving for Calais. "

Thomas clutched at him "Don’t go. Don’t leave me"

"I am not letting you, luv. I am not leaving you!"

He hadn’t  left. He had come home nine months later, miraculously escaped the evacuation of Dunkerque, and was sent back again to Aldershot. Others, such as Monty Parker or Arthur Clarkson, were not so lucky.

Three months later began the Blitz.

All  the public places  were closed and Thomas thought to stay to Daisy, but soon realized that the situation was getting worse and decided to stay. He volunteered to the nearest hospital and after a few days it seemed that he had never done anything else in his life.

There was to think of the wounded, treat those who could be sent home, admit the most serious sicks , visit and bring medicines to the old people and children. That was the task that Thomas preferred. The motorbike had been useful: it was lighter and faster and consuming little of the rationed fuel.

That night Thomas had finished his shift and was about to go home when they got a phone call. Nurse Evans approached him concerned. "A child, Thomas. It seems diphtheria. He has a sore throat and swollen neck.  His mother called. She seems very young and doesn’t know what to do…"

Thomas grabbed the piece of paper that the nurse was holding "I see, give it to me. I’ll  pass to vist while going home. And hope the kraut tonight leave us in peace..."

The kid was very ill. He had a high fever and was gasping and a gray patina covered the mucous membranes of the throat. Thomas began to administer the emetic he had brought and hoped it has effect as soon as possible. Mrs. Redwick seemed very young  and she was the picture of distress.

"How old is our little man?" Thomas smiled soothingly.

"It will turn four in two months"

"What’s his name?"

"Colin..."

Thomas was taking the pulse "How long has he been like this?"

"Since this morning... He began to feel sick three days ago, it looked like a simple cold, sore throat with a bit of fever, and then at twelve it started to get worse! Is it flu, doctor? "

"I'm not a doctor and no, it isn’t flu. It is diphtheria. I am giving him a syrup that will put out the phlegm and Colin will get better. Try to stay calm and put to boil water. And if there is even tea, very strong ... "

The woman blushed "I’m sorry! Sure doctor"

Thomas took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. It would be a long night...

Around ten o’clock air raid sirens began to howl in the distance.

"Mrs. Redwick you has already had diphtheria, has you?"

"Yes, when I was a child..."

"Perhaps it would be appropriate to reach the nearest shelter..."

Two big eyes looked at him with horror "And Colin?"

"Colin cannot move right now. He breaths heavily and the fever is too high... I'll stay with him"

"Do you have children, doctor?"

"Yes, a girl"

"Then you understand why I will remain here"

Thomas sighed and nodded "Okay Mrs. Redwick. We will remain together. Everything will be fine. It 's just the first siren..."

Almost an hour passed. The kid did not seem to improve. Thomas continued to administer the emetic and hope it  started working. Take him to the hospital was too dangerous, and he didn’t want to spread an epidemic of diphtheria. At one point, when Colin seemed to breathe no more, he began having violent attacks of vomiting. The mother shouted.

"Don’t  worry Mrs. Redwick, everything's fine. The medicine that I gave him is working finally. Colin will be better soon" Thomas, busy to help the kid to get rid of phlegm, barely noticed that the sirens had yelled again.

Half an hour later Thomas wad drinking another cup of tea watching Colin finally resting quietly beneath clean sheets and blankets, breathing more regular, when they heard clearly the roar of airplanes. Seconds later the first outbreak. Thomas wrapped the baby in the blankets and rushed out "The nearest air raid shelter, soon!"

Mrs. Redwick ran at breakneck speed but everything around them was dust, darkness and deafening noise. The road was blocked, they tried to go back but Thomas knew they had to hide, there was no time. They turned onto an open door and tried to go down in the cellar. They crouched  in a niche, shoulder to shoulder, with Colin lying above their knees. Thomas put his arm around Mrs. Redwick "Come on! Now those cursed Fritz leave. Come on!" A burst close. Both closed their eyes and bent over the child sleeping unaware in the middle of hell. Another outbreak and a deafening noise. The lintel of the door was collapsing, they would be trapped, the construction was coming down all over. Thomas only had time to think  _Andrew_  and then nothing.

Breathing was tiring. Thomas felt throughout the mouth slurred, as if he had eaten lime. When he fully aware he ran his hands across the chest of the child: he was still breathing!

"Mrs. Redwick?"

"I am... " a cough "I'm here, I'm fine. I think. I cannot move"

"Me neither. And everything came down ... Fortunately this part of the cellar was older and stronger and has held up well"

"How will we get out?"

"We have to wait. Someone will find us ..."

"Mom, I'm thirsty ..."

Mrs. Redwick sobbed.

"Come on Colin. You have to wait a bit and then you can drink"

The woman sighed "We will die here..."

"I hope not Mrs. Redwick, I hope not"

Thomas, in total darkness, had completely lost track of time. He didn’t know how many time he had been unconscious and had not realized where they were. He hoped it was now morning and the rescue had started digging through the rubble. Some of the neighbors must have noticed the absence of Mrs Redwick and little Colin.

"Where is your husband?"

"In Libya"

"Someone will notice that you were not at the shelter. They will be looking for you"

"Colin is fine?"

"Yes,  he is sleeping again. He is weak”

"I'm so scared doctor"

"I'm not a doctor. My name is Thomas"

"I am Sarah"

"Nice to meet you, Sarah. Try to save your strength. It seems there is a minimum air exchange. This is good. We'll survive. Little Colin will survive"

Time passed very slowly. Thomas felt oppressed, crushed in the corner with the weight of the kid on him. He wanted to scream, to try to break free and try to dig, but any movement had practically impossible. He tried to distract himself, he thought of Beatrix, of her drawings, about  when, a few months before, she had told him about Timothy Napier with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. How desperate she was when Andrew had left for Calais. Andrew, the love of his life, the meaning of everything. Andrew...

"Thomas! Thomas! Damn! if you're there answer! For God’s sake!"

"Andrew ...  Andrew! We are here, we are here, we are three. I'm with a woman and a child. The child has diphtheria but he is better now"

"THOMAS! It is you! I knew it, I knew. Here damn fools, he is here! Help me dig! Thomas can you move?"

"No, we are stuck! We are at the bottom of the cellar, in a niche"

"We will pick you up, luv.  We’ll pick you up!"

"Is he a friend?"

"Yes, he is, Sarah. And he will pick us up" His eyes get wet.

The light was dazzling. While rushing them into the ambulances, Thomas covered the eyes with his hands. Andrew made sure he had nothing broken and then hugged him tightly. "Thomas, luv. I dug for hours...  I thought I would never see you again!"

"How.. what…"

"Bea called home, and you didn’t answer. She asked me dad to go see but you weren’t there. Then she called nurse Evans and she told her you'd go home after visiting a child here and since this area was bombed last night she understood immediately what had happened and called me!"

"And how did you find me?"

"Well, there is your motorbike parked in front..."

Thomas smiled and hid his face in between Andy's shoulder and neck "I love Andrew Parker. I love you!"

"Sir, please, now you should go, we have to take them to the emergency room for a check and you cannot come into the ambulance"

Andrew stood up moving away from the stretcher "I'll meet you at the hospital, luv, and then I’ll take you home"

"You must not go back to Aldershot?"

" Tomorrow, Thomas, tomorrow"

Three men looked on, leaning to their shovels. One of them spat angrily. "I am going get an agent"

"For what, Lester?" The youngest looked at him suspiciously.

"What? Have you not seen? Or do you like this kind of things, Josh? "

"Do you know what I saw Lester? I saw one of our soldiers breaking his hands to pull out from under the rubble of a building a child, his mother and a volunteer who was dying to help and protect them, this is what I saw, and I definitely like this kind of things more than your ugly face! "

"Those are two queers Josh, there is prison for people like that! Don’t you see them as they embraced without restraint? And one calling the other luv?"

The other man scratched his stubbly cheeks thinking what to do, then stared at the third companion, who had remained silent."What do you think Fred?"

"What you think, Josh, is good for me"

Josh pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face from the dust of the rubble. Then he walked over to Lester, who was taller, intimidating him. "Listen, if you dare to tell this story to anyone, Fred and I will say that is a lie, and you just invented it because you asked money to the tall guy with the curly hair to pull out his friends and he refused"

The man looked at him with his mouth wide open "Are you crazy? Did you became a lavender, too? "

"Ask your sister tonight"

Fred laughed. Josh and Lester’s sister were married since less than a month.

"You're with me, Fred?"

"Yes lad. I'm sorry Fred, but Josh is right. That guy was going to go the way of a mouse in trap to protect a mother and her son, and helps a lot of people going around with the damn motorbike. There is nothing to gain sending him to jail"

Lester left slamming the shovel to the ground while Andrew came up to thank them.

"Is it all right?"

Josh smiled "Oh, don’t worry, our friend remembered he had to do something. Urgently"


	28. Chapter 28

The inhaled dust of the rubble left Thomas  and Mrs. Redwick very debilitated, but not young Colin: the same illness  that was going to kill him had prevented  the poisoning of his little lungs.

So, after making sure that the child and his mother could find hospitality and all the necessary care, Beatrix and Andrew convinced Thomas, with great  difficulty, insistence and some threat, to move for some time to Daisy. So Thomas  would have had time to recover, in peace. Or so they thought ...

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Daisy was  furious. 

Andrew had returned to Aldershot that afternoon, Beatrix had gone to Phyllis and Sybbie, while Herbie and old Mason had brought the child to see the pigs.

Alone together in the house, Daisy set herself in front of an unaware Thomas reading the newspaper with the same expression of a Nelson at Trafalgar.

"Thomas Barrow! How long we've known each other? Thirty years? More?  And you've just lied all this time! Why didn’t you ever tell me you fancy men? And that you and Andy were together? Together!" She rolled her eyes, beating the palms of the hands on her hips again and again, puffing.

Thomas's eyes widened, "Who ..? How…?"

"Herbie! When I told him I was sorry that you had had to raise Bea alone, he  started giggling!"

Thomas ran a hand over his face, nervously rubbing a cheek.  _Thanks Herbie ..._

"Everyone knew! Everyone! Anna, Mr. Bates, Phyllis, Mrs Patmore, the Carson! Anyone but me! You made a fool of me! And the nonsense you told me? About  your great, unfortunate love for a mysterious friend of the Grantham? I thought you trusted me, we were friends! Why the need to tease me? I REALLY thought we were friends ... " Her eyes became glossy and she started sniffle. Thomas was afraid that soon she would cry. Instinctively he looked for a handkerchief in his pocket, without finding it.  _Oh shit ..._

"But we are friends! I didn't lie Daisy, truly! Only, I didn’t say exactly the truth... I never told that the person I loved was a woman! You just assumed that..."

Daisy frowned looking at him menacingly. Thomas figured she wanted to grab one of the knives on the wall.

"Don’t get smart with me!"

"You're right, you're right, it's  obvious that you thought he was… ehm… she...  but I didn’t lie to you about the rest of it!  I loved him, and when he left me it was not easy" Thomas didn’t know where to look. He thought that staring at his hands could be a good compromise. 

"You've always looked at me with such admiration... You were the only person who ever treated me like I was worth anything.... while the others always treated me like I was the scum of the earth. I didn’t want that you saw me like that, like damaged goods, like ... like a pervert" He looked up. Daisy was still there, belligerently. She was sitting  at the table now, shelling the peas as if to strangling them.

"And Andy? He is like you, too? The sort of Oscar Wilde? "

"Yes…"

"Did you corrupt him?"

If she hit him with one of those knives, she would do less harm.

 "No! Of course not! I could never ... NEVER!" He ran the hands through his hair, blushing with shame. It was not fair, Daisy making him feel that way, so fhilty.

"He always knew to be like me. Never interested in women. Not like that. It happened ... what always happens. We met and ... we liked each other and decided to get together ... and then has came Beatrix"

Daisy had stopped choking legumes. She was sitting there with her arms crossed, biting her lower lip.

"And Jimmy? All that fuss, and you sent away without references? What happened? And don’t you dare to lie!" She slammed forcefully the bowl on the table, making the peas  jump in all directions.

Thomas blushed even more "Jimmy?" He swallowed hard, feeling the throat like sandpaper.

Daisy squished  a pea with one thumb. It spreaded on the table with a pop  "Jimmy!"

"I was..." He thought for a moment and decided to call a spade a spade "I was in love ... and I believed that he felt something for me, but I was wrong. He is really a ladies'man, you know"

Daisy sighed "Strange error to do..."

Thomas winced.

"Then? What happened?"

"I thought they would fire me in a few days... You know...  Bates was back… They didn’t need me anymore… I wanted  Jimmy to know how I felt, before I left, because if he had wanted... I... we... we could be together for a while, or maybe something more" He sighed. It was not easy to talk. It was hard even to remember.

"I went into his room, but he was asleep. You have to understand, I was desperate. I hadn’t slept in days, I had no idea what was coming down the pike, and I wanted so much... "

Daisy grabbed the towel and nervously began to gather up the peas scattered on the table "What? What did you want? What the hell did you want?"

Thomas gripped the arms of the chair so hard that the wood creaked.

"What did I want?" He looked at her with a mixture of anger and resentment "What did I want? What every human being wants! Love! Tenderness, understanding, caresses, a hug! Shit, I wanted the person I loved to tell me that he loved me too, and that everything would be all right, in some way, even if my fucking world was falling apart because no matter what,  I could’ve jumped through hoops, Long John Silver would  always be better than me, and he could well have strangled his wife with his bare hands in front of a crowd of witnesses, his lordship would welcome him with open arms ever again kicking me fuckin’ass! For once I wanted a bit of warmth and I have been so daft to think that Jimmy, that he..."

He jumped up and began to pace up and down "But the only thing that happened was that I got meself in the shit, worse than before! Jimmy yelling at me, treating me like garbage, Carson telling me I deserved a good whipping and Alfred ... oh, Alfred calling the police, having me arrested! "

"Alfred?" Daisy put her hand to her mouth. She couldn’t believe it.

"Yes... that night, while I was in Jimmy’s room, he came in and saw me kissing him. Jimmy was sleeping and I thought, like a fool... "

"So you thought you’d play the sleeping beauty? Oh my God! "

Thomas closed his eyes. Now it was him who would have gladly grabbed a knife.

Instead added wearily "Yes. You can say so"

"You're an idiot Thomas Barrow!" She looked at him with a tired and bitter gaze.

"Sorry Daisy. It was all a mistake. It’s better I go now to pack my stuff. Bea and I will certainly find an accommodation in the village and tomorrow we’ll go back to London" He swallowed hard again "I understand that you and your husband don’t want us here..."

Daisy looked at him in amazement  "What? What are you saying? Why?"

She jumped up, went around the table and rushed in to hug him, forcefully, with despair.

"Thomas! You will not move from here! You, Andy and Beatrix are part of our family and even Herbie thinks the same. I'm sorry I get so angry, but everyone knew, everyone! Even Mr. Mason! I've felt so stupid!"

"Even Mr. Mason? Oh God I don’t even want to think about it... I feel dizzy!"

Thomas buried his face in Daisy’s hair, smelling of vanilla and wood smoke. The knot of fear and anger he felt in his stomach broke into the warm comfort of her embrace.

"You're really not disgusted that Andrew and I...?"

Daisy snorted, "Of course not! I cannot believe it! I NEVER thought... All that talk of Mrs Patmore, and Mr. Carson always founding something to criticize you when you were always so damn perfect! "

"I wasn’t perfect. I don’t.  When people look at you like you're garbage it’s so hard not to put up a fight, to smothered in rage.   
There was always a part of me that wanted to scream and scream and scream…   
And over the years I started feeling alone. It was as if all of you were beyond a glass. If Andrew had not come along  I do not know how it would end, really!"

Daisy stroked his arm thoughtfully "I should have done more"

"No, you couldn’t.  I never gave you a chance. I was too afraid of losing you. I told you, for years you were the only one who looked at me as a man. I needed it. If it hadn't have been for you, I'd fall apart a lot sooner..."

"Fall apart?" Daisy looked up and tenderly brushed the hair from his forehead "There are so many things you never told me, did you?"

Thomas nodded bitterly "Yes"

"I love Mrs Patmore as me mom, but her judgments are not always pearls of wisdom"

"No"

"And I've always preferred to think that Mr. Carson and Mrs Hughes were infallible, but it was not true that either"

"Maybe"

"Maybe you should have trusted me a bit more"

"Daisy, even my own family turned its back on me, I don’t particularly like to test people..."

Daisy smiled "I love you Thomas. I loved you before, and I love you  now. Nothing changes. Nothing" She kissed him on the cheek and stood for a bit that way, leaning against him, as wanting to convince him with the efforts of what she had said in words. 

All the pieces of that confused puzzle finally came back in their place.  O'Brien’s jokes, Mrs. Patmore’s allusions, the fact that, despite Thomas was the best among them, Carson continued to have against him an attitude of undisguised blame, Mrs Hughes always saiying Andy not to rely too heavily on Mr. Barrow. Even Denker, God rest her soul, has  always had something to say about him. Daisy bitterly realized that everyone knew where to hit when they wanted to hurt Thomas.

"You're one of the people I love the most Daisy" He pulled her to him, resting her swarthy little head on his shoulder "Are you sure that  Herbie and Mr. Mason...?"

She hit him in the ribs "Sure!"

"Ouch! I'm here to get better, not worse!"

 

When the others came back, they found the table set and Daisy pouring vegetable soup into the dishes while Thomas taking out of the oven the rabbit pie.

"It’s ready in table! Go wash your hands! Especially you, Will!" Daisy moved menacingly the ladle over her son.

While they all sat, Herbie elbowed Thomas and muttered "It’s all right with Daisy? I think I said too much the other day"

Thomas stared into the plate in front of him "Yes, I think so. too..."

Herbie was a big man, with a nice happy face and a sincere smile, always in a good mood, but at that moment he was the quintessence of concern and despair. 

He swallowed visibly and began to haunt with a fork the potatoes that Daisy had put into his plate. After having reduced them to a puree, he leaned back to Thomas "I thought it was obvious. I mean, after all these years... Damn, you raised the child together with him... Who knew Daisy hadn’t figured out yet?" He shook his head and sighed.

Thomas wanted to dig a hole and hide himself inside "Sorry lad, but I don’t like to talk about it"

Herbie began to torture the little he had left in the plate. After a while he added "I understand. But I want you to know that, I mean, you are welcome here. It makes no difference for me. All right?"

Thomas nodded, half-hearted, lips pursed.

Herbie went on, in a faint voice "Me best friend. Grew up together, as brothers. Killed in the war, at Ypres. To save me. He was the same as you" His mouth took on a bitter twist "It makes no difference for me. Understand?"

Thomas stared at him for a moment, with his fork in midair, trying to absorb the meaning of the clumsy words. After what seemed like an eternity to Herbie, Thomas put a hand on his arm and looked him straight in the eyes "I do. Thank you, Herbie. Truly”

 

After dinner Bea joined Thomas in the yard  "Uncle! You should not smoke! In your condition!"

"Ah, I feel much better, and this is the second, and last, of the day.  Mercy on me!"

Bea stopped him waving a hand: Thomas’s talk certainly didn’t inspire pity in her "Aunt and Sybbie say Hello. They’ll went to see you in the coming days.  Really are you  feeling better?"

Thomas smiled, throwing the cigarette butt on the ground and crushing it with the toe of the shoe "Yes, much better, Sweety ..." He paused for a moment looking at the expanse of stars that seemed to swallow that spring night, then added softly  "I just wish that Andrew was here".


	29. Chapter 29

In the early summer the air raids on London became less frequent and heavy. In September, Thomas decided to return home and began to assess the damage. Many buildings were destroyed, others badly damaged, but people didn’t  want to surrender. There was  a strong feeling of strength and determination, a will to live, despite everything.

The building of the Skylon was condemned. The other two restaurants reopened, at first only on weekends and with half of the staff they used before the war.

 Thomas had to make many choices on its own, with Andrew in Aldershot and Mitchell moving to New York at the start of the conflict, but luckily Beatrix proved to be an unexpected and useful support. Prepared, clever and sensitive she had a feeling for business like Andrew and in addition a charm and a grace that let her obtein unexpected results.

So, while Thomas was still deciding what to do, Bea started to check the place, to study the map of the building, to consult the fire department and provide documentation for the city council. 

It took four months, an enormous amount of paperwork showing that there were no major disruptions and structural failure and many actions of consolidation  of the floor and the supporting structure, but in the end Thomas and Andrew’s creature reopened its doors. 

Slowly people were trying to get back to normal, though it seemed impossible.

Beatrix and Sybbie graduated the following year and Bea started working at Abercrombie’s.

If the war had not brought to the front almost every man between the ages of twenty and fifty, it would have been impossible to have the job, and she knew it well. She worked ten hours a day for a meager expenses account, but she  was happy anyway. Thomas and Andy weren’t at all. 

They seldom saw each other and Andrew was always gloomy: his nephew death had hurt him deeply. Eddie had lost his son, and with the tragic air raid of Coventry his job too. Andrew had tried to help him in every way but the emptiness and the pain were unbridgeable.

One afternoon he came home and sat down, in the kitchen. He could stay at Aldershot to coordinate the delivery of supplies for  the BEF or move even in the offices in London, but he had requested instead to go on a mission and he’d leave shortly for Italy. 

Thomas looked at him without saying a word. He just nodded his head. Andrew had lost too much. He could not stand by and watch and not do anything.

Timothy was about to leave for Italy, too, and asked Beatrix to marry him.

Thomas did not agree. For the first time since Beatrix had become part of his life, they discussed. Bea pointed out in a quiet voice that she was informing him simply out of courtesy, because she was almost twenty-three years old and no longer needed his permission for anything. Thomas felt the storm behind her  words and prepared himself to deal with it.

Timothy was conflicted: on the one hand he didn’t want to leave without huging the woman he loved at least once. If he didn’t come back, he wanted at least the taste of Beatrix kisses, the sweet memory of the curves of her breasts beneath his fingers. Maybe it was selfish, but he was only twenty-four and so afraid of dying and it seemed cruel to deny themself a bit of happiness. 

On the other hand he knew how Beatrix was fond of her uncle, and how important it was for her to have Mr. Barrow’s approval, and the awareness that, because she loved him, she was willing to give up on it, didn’t make him feel better. So he asked to the person he trusted most for help.

One afternoon, while Thomas was trying to make ends meet in the small office of the Skylon, Nick, who had been reformed because too short, fact that no one could even mention in his presence without triggering a fit of reckless fury, appeared at the door muttering  "A certain Lord Branksome would like to talk with you, Mr. Barrow"

Thomas sighed "Let’s take him"

Evelyn Napier Viscount Branksome hadn’t changed much. The same slender shape, the same kind and intelligent eyes. Thomas had never understood why Lady Mary didn’t like. He had always liked.

Napier settled with an elegant gesture and waved politely "Mr Barrow ..."

"Lord Branksome..."

"Under the circumstances you may call Evelyn"

Thomas was startled "I don’t... Are you sure?"

Lord Branksome made a grimace that was almost a smile, to point out he wasn’t a man unsure of his words.

"Can I get you anything? A tea? Or maybe a scotch? "

"Scotch will be fine, thanks"

Nick, who had waited until then by Thomas’s desk, served the two glasses  and left the bottle on the table, disappearing.

Thomas decided it was time to speack openly "Let’s come to the point. If you are here to ask me to dissuade Beatrix from marrying your son, you are losing time. I do not want this marriage as much as you. But Beatrix is twenty three and I cannot do anything to stop this nonsense"

This time Evelyn Napier smiled amused "What makes you think that I am against this marriage?"

Thomas refilled the glasses "Oh come on, the son of a viscount marrying the daughter of a footman! Thimoty would be the laughing stock of London!"

"You are no longer a footman, Thomas, and Beatrix is a lovely girl. Let's say that I see a promising architect, daughter of a businessman, who marries a promising lawyer, heir to a title without much value anymore..."

Thomas swallowed another sip of scotch. It would be a difficult conversation.

"I'll be honest… ehm… Evelyn…” Thomas thought he was going to choke “I'll be honest even if it means to be cruel. We both know what it's like to fight at the front. The both of us escaped not without scars that marked us for life.  
 Timothy could come back be very changed from what he is now. Beatrix could find herself bound to a man she doesn’t understand anymore, she no longer recognizes" sighed "Or Timothy could, forgive my frankness, not come back at all. And my little girl would be married for a week and widow for life. And believe me, I'd rather prefer she could forget and move on than to live in memory of an idealized love no living man could hold a candle to. It  would be even worse  to remain  alone with a child to raise”

Thomas poured himself the third scotch before whispering “Not to mention the fact that he might return invalid, and Bea would be bound her whole life to a man who perhaps may not be a husband anymore"

Evelyn Napier looked at him in silence.

"I remind you that I directed Downton as a hospital during the Great War. For two years.  I have seen it all... I'm sorry. You  worry about your son, but I have to worry about my little girl... "

"This is to call things by their own name” Evelyn played for a bit with his glass, nervously “ I cannot deny that I thought about this,  too. Timothy is our only son. If he… “ a sigh “If he never comes back,   a daughter-in-law and a grandchild could be a great consolation... " The man stopped a moment. His eyes were bright. Evelyn clenched his jaw and blinked back tears.

"The boys know each other for almost three years, they are in love and they know what’s waiting for them. I know Beatrix wants to get married even without your blessing. My wife and I will be there. I wish you were there, too. And of course, Mr. Parker. Or would it be better to call him Andrew?"

Thomas looked at him dumbfounded. What did Bea tell him? What did Mary Crawley tell him?

"Now I'd better go" He stood up and reached for Thomas.

"We have no influence on the future, but we can at least live in the present. Good evening, Thomas"

"Good evening" performing an incredible effort he was able to add "Evelyn"

Left alone, Thomas swallowed another glass and breathed hard. The world, inexplicably, didn’t stop turning even for a moment.

 

 

Two weeks later Thomas, Andrew, grandparents Parker, Eddie with his wife and the children, Mr. and Mrs. Barrow, arrived from Manchester for the occasion, Daisy with her husband and the Molesley watched the exchange proposals of Beatrix and Timothy along with Lord and Lady Branksome and some of their perplexed relatives with high-sounding titles, including Lady Mary and Mr.Talbot. George and Sybbie were witnesses.

Leaving the Hall Beatrix turned to hug Thomas and Andrew.

"Thanks for being here. Thanks for always being there. Thanks for having always loved me and had faith in me" She was radiant.

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hard chapter to write...

Thomas felt tired, restless and slightly drunk. Thankfully Andrew had managed, with difficulty, to be on leave for a few days: his superiors didn’t understand why it was so important for him to attend the wedding of the daughter of a friend, but at  the end the permission had arrived, even thanks to a call from Lord Pelham.

To hear Andrew humming in the next room while opening the closet, the clink of the watch chain  falling over the dresser, the thud of shoes removed without untie the laces and pushed with a careless kick into the corner, those familiar sounds gave him a sense of precarious peace, a kind of beneficial truce before the departure.

Andrew approached him yawning. He was in shirt and socks. "Come to bed just the way you are. No pajama" He hugged Thomas, kissing his temple tenderly.

The man blushed "I can’t ... I'm sorry but I think I'm just too tired to..."

Andrew pushed him toward the bed, making Thomas lie down beside him, the head resting on his shoulder. Then pulled the covers up and turned out the light "I'm tired, too. I just need to feel your skin against mine" his long tapered fingers began to caress his companion on the shoulder and on the hip, languidly.

Thomas relaxed, settling in his arms, and closed his eyes. "What a day! " he smiled, because Andrew was tickling "Beatrix was beautiful! I don’t want to know how much  cost that dress!"

Andrew gave him a pinch "Thomas! She married the heir of a viscount, she couldn’t put on a cheap frock! However it was not new ... It was just refurbished. In wartime you cannot do much... And the veil was your aunt’s!"

"Anyway she was beautiful... Do you believe Timothy will make her happy?"

"She thinks he will, so they are already halfway"

Andrew became  to stroke him slowly.

"Do you think they are...?"

"No, I don’t  and it’s better you don’t, too!"

"I didn’t say anything to her, maybe I should have..."

"I took care of it. And Phyllis before me. And they will find out for themselves what we haven’t said, as we have all done"

Thomas sighed. The thought of what they could find out for  themselves wasn’t reassuring.

"I’ve been acting like an idiot. I thought only about protecting her and I couldn’t hear what she was saying, what she really needed. Did you see how she was happy? I was messing everything"

Andrew ran a finger through his hair, as if to erase those thoughts from his head. "We have done so much to teach her to think for herself. Don’t complain if she has learned”

"Yeah ... I'm proud of her"

Andrew reached for the cigarettes and the lighter. He lit one and after inhaling a few puffs handed it to Thomas "You have done wonders for the wedding reception, whereas everything is rationed"

"Nick and Alfred helped me. But I must admit I didn’t ask the provenance of everything ... "

"Guests appreciated it. Even Lady _broom in the ass_ and her lanky husband" they both giggled  "Master George’s grown a really handsome guy. He's fine in uniform"

"Should I be jealous?"

"The one with a soft spot for blondes it’s you"

Thomas snorted "You are going to milk this for all it's worth, aren't you?" Andrew laughed again "Yes, I think so!" Then he turned serious, "What did your uncle want?"

"Nothing. He tried to talk to my dad, get him to write to me at least, but there was no way"

"I'm sorry"

"I’m not. he's never been much of a father "

"And what about your sister?"

"She does…”

“… what the father and the husband tell her. I know, I know" Andrew rolled his eyes.

Snuggling against Thomas  he thought about his own brothers, Reggie, Kenny and the younger, Vinnie, with a bit of anger and  disappointment. The last to understand and accept, after Eddie and his parents, had been Danny, but the others didn’t want to talk to him even after all those years.

Muttering,  he laid down in the arms of his companion, drift off into a dreamless sleep.

 

A few days later Andrew, Timothy and George were leaving for Sicily. It was July 1943.

About that year Thomas didn’t remember almost anything, except the  fear. Every time someone knocked at the door, a telegram arrived or the phone rang, his heart was up his throat.

The anxiety was devouring him, as Beatrix, but she had a faith, a hope in the future that was denied to Thomas. He knew. Anytime his mind went  to Andrew he felt like he was suffocating.

He tried to stay busy as much as possible, to not think, because thoughts were full of anguish. 

He had started to pay voluntary service again and when wasn’t on duty he went to the Skylon or to other restaurants, inspected the accounts, inventoried the goods, spoke with the staff. 

He went home only when he was sure Bea was there. He didn’t want  to stay alone. After Timothy’s  departure, Beatrix had refused to stay alone in their flat too new, too smart and too empty and went back to Thomas.  In the evening they sat next to each other in the darkness, listening to the radio, often holding hands.

Night was the worst: he wake up terrified, sure that Andy was lying in the mud of a trench, with a bullet in his forehead. He knew it wasn’t so, that it couldn’t be so. That had been  _his_  war and Andrew was not buried in a trench. He could have died in a different way, blowing up a mine, hit by a sniper's bullet, taken  and shot, cut down by a machine gun...

Trembling he lit a cigarette and remained staring at the ceiling until dawn, to begin another day of waiting, equal to the previous. Not even the clocks could distract him. He watched the complicated mechanisms, unable to focus, the mind and the heart still fixed on the memory of a smile that could light up a rainy day, of two eyes sweet like gingerbread biscuits.

Sometimes a letter came from places with exotic names that had the same strange taste of a sugar cube on the tongue when he tried to pronounce them, but almost always the text was censored, which left him very puzzled about the content.

Timothy’s letters instead spoke only about how much he missed Bea and how much he loved her, more each day, and the censorship didn’t worry about that at all.

But although it was like the time had stopped, days and months were passing instead, for better or for worse. The sultry heat of August had melted in the autumn rain. The city was in constant turmoil, like a crawling anthill. Everywhere there were construction sites to remove or displace crumbling debris and free up roads and courtyards and there  long lines of people waiting for  the distribution of blankets, coats and clothes for the coming winter. 

The rain began to mix with the snow. The cold air now cut the face when Thomas went around the city to distribute medicines on his motorcycle, but it was a way to not think too much about Andrew.

For Christmas, Timothy came back home on leave. Andrew didn’t. Having neither wife nor children, his requests were promptly rejected.

The snow turned quickly into mud but the cold became so bitter that Thomas had to put sheets of newspaper under his coat when he moved in his usual rounds.  Between late February and early March the now rare air raids ceased completely. Winter finally gave way to a tentative spring and April brought longer and bright days. Crocuses, tulips and daffodils planted by Andrew and Beatrix a lifetime ago  flourished that year, too.

The summer, warm and dry, arrived and left.

One morning, at the beginning of October,  Thomas heard the door open. Bea had just got out, so he asked  "What did you forget this time?"

A deep man's voice answered "Nothing. There is everything, and everything is exactly as I remembered it. And I missed it all so much"

"Andrew!" Thomas flew literally into his  arms,  kissing him everywhere "Andrew! You're back! You haven’t told me anything! You could write, call! I cannot believe it! How long do you stay? When do you leave?"

Andrew hugged him tightly "For me it's over Thomas. No more. I am at home. Forever. Indefinite leave"

Thomas buried his face in the felted fabric of Andrew’s  uniform. His ears were buzzing and knees were trembling.  _At home ... Forever ..._ Andrew was safe and sound, in his arms.

Andrew’s battalion, during that year,  had moved from Gela, in Sicily, across half of Italy,  to Rome, and once there, after a few months, demobilized. 

In his way home Andrew had only one thing in his mind, to see Thomas again, his picture in the inside pocket of his jacket, near the heart. He didn’t want to write him,  he didn’t want to hear his voice on the phone, he wanted to meet him, hold him in his arms, run his fingers through Thomas’s hair. He had seen the hell, and he just wanted to go home, and his home was Thomas.

It was strange at first. Nothing had changed, but everything has changed. Andrew could no longer see his life as before.

A few days after his arrival, he asked Thomas to show him the mails from Italy. He spent a long time looking at the black censorship strips hiding the words he had drawn himself with his large and a bit uncertain writing.

"What was written on it? What did you need to tell me? Why all that secrecy? "

Andrew was tense and nervous "Newspapers ... Do they talk about what’s happening in Germany?"

"What’s happening? Do you mean the air raids?" Then it occurred to him "No, you mean the prison camps, for Jews, do you?"

Andrew nodded "The American soldiers, in Italy, they spoke... but our superiors didn’t want to let information come to light. We had an interpreter, Lorenzo" Andrew seemed torn between the desire to speak and the pain caused by memories "He told us what happened there. What Nazis did. They started this past year,  in September, across northern Italy, particularly in Rome and in Venice. They did house to house raids! They took them!"

"The men?"

"No Thomas! Anyone! Men, women, old people, children, even infants!"

Thomas didn’t understand "Why?"

"They took them all. They used freight trains, treating people like beasts, took them to these camps in Germany.  And not only from Italy. Even from France, Poland, all the territories controlled by Nazis"

"But it makes no sense. There must be thousands. Where the hell the Fritzes  hope to put all  these people...” It was like a whip. Thomas put his hands over  his mouth  “No, they can’t!"

"Yes, they did, they do! Not thousands, Thomas, millions! Taken, taken away from their homes. Whole families. Innocent people, like Lady Rose and  Mr Aldridge and the girls…" Andrew's voice trembled "Millions ... at least three, maybe more. Definitely more "

Thomas put an arm around his shoulders.

“They are not prison  camps, Thomas. They are death camps!”

“Even now?”

“Right now, yes.  The Soviet divisions, moving forward the German territory, found some. But there are others for sure…”

Thomas repeated incredulous “It can’t be…”

"We could do more. We know what’s going on. They took them in these camps to die ... We should bomb the camps, the trains, the railways!  And they take  not only Jews” Andrew’s hands were shacking  “Not only Jews, but even gypsies, disabled, political detainees and ... and ... "

Thomas was waiting  for  Andrew to finish his sentence, but suddenly all the pieces fitted together. He grabbed his hand, strongly  "And people like us…"

The man was able to nod, then began to cry, leaning on Thomas’s shoulder. "We could do more. We should have done more!"

Andrew cried and talked most of the night. He talked about the people, the places, the faces, the numbers. He talked about the few escaped he had met, their names, their stories. He talked and cried and eventually fell asleep leaning his head on Thomas’s knees.

Nothing had changed, and yet, nothing would be like before.

 

Timothy came back, safe and sound, eight months later, just in time to find out he was going to be a father soon.

Thomas and Andrew looked at Bea in confusion, listening to the news.

 "What’s the matter? Aren’t you glad? Timothy's father is gone mad  with joy!"

Thomas made a vague gesture with his hand "We are delighted, treasure. Only ... will  the baby  call us  grandpa? "

"Of course the baby will call you grandpa! What else? "

 

People began to go out again.  The restaurants were just filled, theaters reopened. Thomas and Andrew were back to work at full capacity. Eddie was able to return to Coventry, thanks to a substantial help from them. He bought a newly built house and began to sell small appliances.

Little Rufus was born a month before the end of the war. At the party in honor of his grandson a drunk Evelyn Napier asked to an equally drunk Thomas Barrow if it was true that his friend Kemal Pamuk was dead in the bed of Mary Talbot nee Crawley, and Thomas told him word for word how things went, only to forget both the next day what he said.


	31. 1955 - Epilogue

"How nice to see you all here! I hoped that  you would come!"

Thomas smiled, clutching the hand of the tall and blond man "We couldn’t do anything but come, Lord Grantham"

"For heaven's sake, no formalities! Only George" He looked around "Mama still thinks it’s crazy, but if you only knew! We could do a lot of maintenance works, the facade has been beautifully restored! Here everything was falling apart!"

"Rent a part of Downton Abbey for auctions, exhibitions and weddings was George’s idea. At first we were all with doubts, but I got to say he was right. The only way to maintain the house is that the house maintains itself" Sybbie smiled happily arm in arm with Bea   "We have reservations for all of the next year. A film crew will use the living room as location for one of those movies adapted from Agatha Christie’s novels, those with Miss Marple!"

Everyone had come to the opening to the public of the Abbey: Thomas and Andrew with Bea, Timothy and the kids,  Phillis with Joseph, the Bates, Daisy together with her husband. Even Alfred had decided to come out of his kitchen. Thomas saw in the corner of his eye a slender blonde figure coming towards them. He straightened trying to hide his belly. Daisy and Anna immediately met him "Jimmy, you are in here, too! We are all together, just like the old days!"

"Did you had to run off again, Jimmy? Did you gamble  too much? Or are you escaping from a jealous husband again?" Andy gave him a pat on the back that made Jimmy cough, and then lean on his shoulder  "Funny thingh, the years pass but you don’t grow up..."

"Ah ah ah, You feel witty, don’t you? Hello Thomas. You haven’t changed at all !"

"Grandpaaaaaaaa" A boy with a smart look  reached them, clinging to Thomas jacket. He had straight dark hair and big blue eyes. The same as his mother. The same as Thomas.

The man laughed. How could he manage to look younger with a ten year old boy calling him grandpa ...

"You told you'll let me see where you lived with grandpa Andrew. Can we go now? "

Thomas looked at George "Go ahead. Now there is nobody in the attic. I think you know the way"

“Thank you Lord… Thanks George!”

Thomas and young Rufus get going, followed by Evelyn, Rufus’brother, and the Crawley boys.  Jimmy followed the group, evidently to Andrew ‘s great annoyance. Bea held him "But how? Are you still jealous after all these years?" Andrew smiled resignedly " Always my dear, always!"

Thomas gave the kids a tour of the attic, showing  their rooms and the  impassable door separating  men from women, to  which only Mrs Hughes had the key.

Rufus looked around a bit surprised: it was difficult to imagine his grandpas, always so tidy and elegant and _rich_ in a place like that, with small, wet rooms,  fireplaces too small to really heat up, old, ugly  furnitures and only a bathroom for all of them!

After countless questions (how many servants were there with Thomas, at what hour they woke up in the morning, when they went to sleep, where and when they had their meals) Master Matthew, George’s eldest son, invited the others  into his room to play with his new electric train. 

The cries of the kids resounded  the stairs and then were lost in the distance. Thomas stood alone in the corridor. Caught up in the nostalgia he walked again into one of the rooms and looked around. The other furniture had probably been thrown away but the dresser and the old bed were still there, in the places he remembered them.

"Of all the room you choose this one?" Jimmy's voice, hoarse and deep, startled him.

"Yup ... Believe it or not,  I  haven’t been here since that night.  Andrew had Alfred’s room, ‘cause the bed was longer, you know... "

Jimmy made an annoyed face "Yes, I see..."

But Thomas didn’t care. He was lost in memories "That night I thought my life was over. I thought that Carson would call the police, they would take me away and after being in jail for something like that I couldn’t have a job anymore. Not everybody is as lucky as Bates!"

They laughed both.

"You know, I thought it would do more harm, but it's as if it happened to someone else. It 's been so long, many things have happened..."

"Have you ever thought that if Alfred hadn’t come... things might have turned out differently?"

"No, I always just thought that you fall asleep like a stone in five seconds, damn you! Finding you awake I would have avoided a lot of troubles"

Jimmy reached out to him, heavy eyelids "Now I'm awake ... and Alfred remained downstairs ...  He said he doesn’t want to climb all those stairs anymore"

Thomas blushed. In a tone that was meant to be humorous but turned out only awkward, said "Do you want a kiss, Jimmy Kent?"

Jimmy came still closer and closer, putting his hands on Thomas’s waistcoat "Do you want to kiss me, Thomas Barrow?"

Thomas smiled. He had aged. His temples were gray and the figure weighted. But at that time it was 1922, he had little more than thirty years and Jimmy seemed the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in this world. He  bent down and gently put the lips to his. Jimmy did not flinch and did not protest. Tenderly he opened his mouth and let the kissing became more sensual and moist, bringing his arms around Thomas's neck.

Andrew had followed them and now he was watching at their reflection in the dresser mirror. He didn’t even manage to get angry. Even while cheating on him, Thomas was beautiful. Broad shoulders, strong back, the way he bent protective and gentle, his hands, his beautiful hands, around  Jimmy’s hips...

"Well, how that was?"

Thomas smiled, "Ah, like thirty years ago!"

Andrew closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

Thomas continued "Wrong, like that time. Let's face it, even if you had fancied men, it would never have worked out between us"

Jimmy stuck his tongue out "Instead between you and Andy, does it work?"

"Eh eh eh, yup!  I’d say yes. Indeed, let’s go down before Andrew gets angry. He doesn’t like when you're around me"

At that point Andrew walked into the room "I have my reasons...  Let’s go, it's lunchtime, they’ll be  looking for us" He took Thomas’s  hand and held it tightly, smiling.  Thomas blushed “How long have you been there?”

Andrew didn’t answer. Instead pushed Jimmy by the shoulder "Let’s go, lad. When do you leave?  Because you leave, do you? "

"I don’t know, I might decide to stay for a while.  Jimmy jr doesn’t know anything about the place where his father grew up”

"Grew up? And since when you grew up?"

Jimmy laughed sarcastically and started to go down, but Andrew lingered a moment. He turned to Thomas and took his face in the hands.

“Did you see us? I am sorry luv, I was only joking…”

"Don’t worry, it’s all right! You weren’t joking, and it’s all right. I love you Thomas Barrow"

"I love you, too, Andrew Parker"

They walked down those same stairs one last  time, holding hands.


End file.
